The Man Who Lives
by PenPatronus
Summary: Year 6 AU With his new powers and his new godfather, Harry Potter, the Order, and the heirs of Gryffindor fight Voldemort. Hurt/ comfort, angst, adventure.
1. The Chocolate Frog Card

**Summary**: Harry, Ron and Hermione's 6th year at Hogwarts: Harry has a new godfather, there's a prophecy concerning the heir(s) of Gryffindor, characters choose sides, fall in love, learn Occlumency and how to be Animagi, and endure biological weapons, new spells, and werewolves. Find out what power Harry has that Voldemort doesn't know about. Meet Lily's family. Learn more of Dumbledore's secrets and, oh yeah, there's WAR, with its battles, tragedies, massacres, betrayals, and resurrections. Packed with plotlines, this story is for anyone who likes Hermione strong, Harry vulnerable and heroic, and Ron, well, (let's be honest) hurt. Angst, and lots of it. Romance, drama, adventure and trio friendship angst. The adult Ron tells the story of The Boy Who Lived to his children, so who is The Man Who Lives? The best endings aren't always happy ones.

**Disclaimer **(for all of the chapters): Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, who I am not worthy of. I solemnly swear that no money is being made. No house elves (well, maybe one) were injured during the making of this story. Rated nearly-PG-13.

**Author's Notes:** The first and final chapters of this story are from Ron's point of view. The ones in between are the traditional perspective of The Boy Who Lived. The quotes are referenced by book number (the American versions) followed by the page. For example: (3, 184) book three, page 184.

Reviews are very VERY much appreciated, and are welcome at any time no matter how far past the update date. And if you write one for each chapter I promise I'll update quicker!

PenPatronus

**Man Who Lives**

**Prologue: **The Chocolate Frog Card

"You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky…That's what you want, isn't it?"

–Harry to Ron (4, 336).

Ron was unsure why, and quite miffed by the fact that he, of the remaining Weasley siblings, got "blessed" with twins. According to the medical books Hermione borrowed from the new Muggle wing of the Hogwarts library, the gene is supposed to skip a generation. ("This is what we get for trusting Muggle medi…Muggles!" "Honestly, Ron, their doctors aren't daft and you would know!") They'd officially cursed the world with another Fred and George, and Ron repeatedly reminded his wife that he'd insisted on not having children in the first place. They were busy enough with nieces and nephews. "I suppose Headmistress McGonagall does have enough Weasley blood to deal with." Hermione would sigh, "Bill's charm mixed with Veela powers is bad enough."

But ten years and two kids after their wedding, Ron and Hermione Weasley were once again proud parents. It turned out that Hermione was longwinded even when it came to naming her children, which she had proved with their oldest, Harry Luke Albus and his younger sister, Lily Rebeccah Virginia. Luckily Hermione had gotten tired of rehearsing all three names after the first month of Harry's life. Now, Ron's two newborn sons were upstairs with their mother, hopefully asleep before Hermione lost her patience and cast a Slumber charm. Meanwhile Harry, who had learned to fly on a broom before he could walk, and who was quite the beater even at age 8, was out on the back porch with his sister. 5-year-old Lily had crawled up onto the picnic table and was busy opening all of the Chocolate Frogs from their Easter baskets. She was bright eyed and bushy haired, just like her mother, but was doused with wide freckles, and her pony-tail was a dazzling unadulterated red. Harry, who was handing the Frogs to his sister for her to eat and him to keep the cards, had the same color hair, cut short for the spring season so that he could easily see a bludger. There were just a few clusters of freckles across his skin and unfortunately he'd inherited his mother's teeth.

Ron looked up as an edible Frog jumped from the picnic table and promptly smashed into the glass door to the living room. Lily shrieked with amusement and but characteristically, Harry hadn't even noticed, he was intently studying the dozen cards his sister had obediently piled for him. He merely blinked when Lily sent a second Frog in his direction, which hopped directly over Harry's shoulder and into the flower planters lining the porch. Lily suddenly forgot about their candy and a thought catapulted her to the door.

"Daddy! Are we going to grandma's soon?"

"Not for a few hours, flower, after the twins nap."

"My brudda twins or unca twins?"

It had become customary for the entire, _entire_ Weasley family to have dinner together once a week, every Sunday evening. It loosened the Warren's seams and nearly killed Molly each time, but she was happiest when surrounded by her grandchildren. It was distracting. Ron sighed and switched the pages of the latest edition of the _Daily Prophet_ as Lily returned to her task and Harry flipped over the next Famous Witch or Wizard Card. Ron was stretched out on the couch, knowing but not caring that Hermione would scold him for putting his shoes on the cushions. She didn't care about the dirt but Ron was "incessantly a bad example". Ron yawned and pressed his fingers to his eyes when fifth page of the _Daily Prophet_ became blurry for the second time that minute. Up the stairs behind him he heard Hermione, horrible singing voice that she had, humming to the newborns that had quieted down faster than usual, as if they were as eager to go to the Warren as Lily was.

The twins had been born two weeks previous, and only their godfather had yet to meet them. Ron was anxious to see his best friend who was coming a few minutes before all six of them would leave for dinner. He was also constantly jealous because Hermione got to see him nearly every day at work. She was, --surprisingly--, a professor at Hogwarts, Transfiguration and Muggle Studies. Arthur Weasley had offered to make her an honorary Auror just like he'd commissioned Ron, but Hermione preferred to teach. Yet having been on maternity leave (unwillingly) for the past month and a half, she hadn't seen her best friend either. Ron yawned once again as Lily tried to catch a leaping Frog in her mouth and Harry finally reached the bottom of his deck. Weekends were gold for Ron Weasley; he'd been working double shifts lately because of increased Death Eater activity. Being an Auror was dangerous work, but it was distracting. Hermione normally hated being stuck home with the kids all day while her husband was at work, but it was distracting.

It seemed that anything anyone did was just for distraction.

"Dad…Dad?"

Ron started. He'd been so deep in his thoughts that at some point Hermione had graciously stopped singing her lullaby, and Harry had crouched in front of him. Ron smiled at his son, already knowing what Harry wanted to tell him. "What's the count?"

"Well, I got one of your cards and one of mom's, that makes three even that I have of both of you. The last two were grandpa's and only one of them spelled "Minister" right." Ron snorted and made a mental note to remind Hermione that Harry had the know-it-all gene. "I got a McGonagall, a Ravenclaw, a Snape and two Flamels. Oh! And look at this, here's a card of someone I don't have yet! And he has _my_ name!"

Ron blinked and gulped at what suddenly hopped into his mouth and had forgotten to be chewed. And it felt heavier than a Chocolate Frog. He must have missed one of the cards during his inspection the night before! His insides lapped drunkenly against his skin before they settled enough for Ron to speak without sounding like a pubescent house elf.

"Does he now?"

"Yeah, look!" Harry put the card up to Ron's nose. "See? Harry!…Harry Putter!"

"_Potter_, Har—His name was Harry Potter, son." Harry's eyes raced across the description on the back of the card.

"Dad? I think I know this name, I think I've read it somewhere but…Did you—can you tell me about this person? Did you know him?" It had become a tradition for Ron to tell the legends of every face on the Chocolate Frog cards that Harry collected.Ron's son was staring at the card as if those green eyes were familiar to him as well. Ron wondered if memories were genetic.

The Auror guzzled down another breath and slowly, extra carefully folded the newspaper (he was an expert at stalling) and placed it on the floor, straightening it, smoothing it out. Harry offered him the card and Ron stared at it for several long moments during which Lily barged in to find out what all the quiet was about. _A dozen years later and I still can't talk about the Battle of Endings, not about Voldemort, not about him…They're still too young to hear about this but Harry will probably find it in a book any day now…_ "Harry Potter…I haven't seen this face for 12 years…" Ron Weasley had half-hoped he'd never have to tell his children the story. "Harry is who you're named after, son. If he were still alive, he would be your godfather." The child's eyes widened with curiosity. "And he was a very, very important person, and your mother and I loved him—loved him very _very_ much. Almost as much as we love you."

Both Harry and Lily smiled at that and Ron was convinced that they were able to fathom such love. The half-faded Percy-ish voice in Ron's subconscious warned him to be tender about the approaching details. As usual it was countered by the Fredgeorge verbal rolling-of-the-eyes. But it was the flash of Ginny's smiling face that caused Ron to opt for the truth, realizing it was going to be harder for himself than for Lily and Harry. Ron took a deep breath and continued, "I met Harry Potter…"

After an hour, Ron's voice hesitated. Harry's eyes snapped up from the card between his fingers, alarmed by the sudden silence. He sported a valiant Quiddich-beaters-don't-cry expression. Lily, eerily quiet, blinked up at her father as if she'd burst with curiosity. Ron took a steadying breath. He leaned forward on the couch and placed his elbows horizontally on his knees. He allowed himself a lengthy moment to contemplate his lifelong scars, the ones outside and in, their shapes and levels and weights and memories. He subconsciously fingered the pink thought scars still visible on his forearms. Damn brain. Ron felt himself sink into the noose of his past, their past, _his_ past.

"And after Sirius…died…the war began, everything changed. Nothing was ever the same. Harry was never the same…"

Crouched unseen on the staircase behind them, Hermione Weasley lowered her face to her palms, muffling the sound of the tears gushing from her eyes. In her lap sat a dusty book she'd retrieved the moment she heard the tone of her husband's voice. The book was hand-written and opened half-way, yellowed by time, cratered with dried tears:

_Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived_

_By: Harbor Rowling_

_For my future godchildren, but especially for Ron and Hermione, who had all of his love, and now have all of mine. _


	2. Blood of His Mother

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Chapter 1: _

**Blood of His Mother**

"While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort." –Dumbledore to Harry (5, 836)

Vernon's courage was quite magically resurrected the moment the Dursleys were out of earshot of Harry Potter's rather intimidating farewell party. "Ruffians!" He exclaimed, sending the tips of his mustache sprouting in opposite directions. Harry, lugging his school trunk alongside his uncle, grinned to himself as they exited Platform 9¾. Usually Harry tended to be suffocated by an instant depression at the final sight of red Weasley hair for an entire summer, but even despite the events at the Department of Mysteries, Harry had hope that this summer could be the best yet.

And possibly the worst for the rest of the wizarding world.

"Abnormalities, undesirables, hooligans! Ought to be locked in a bloody cage!"

Harry considered informing his uncle that monthly, one of them was locked in a cage (and guarded by a hippogriff). But even the word "hippogriff" gave him an immediate stomach ache, as if his heart had been swallowed and viciously regurgitated. Before his thoughts could settle on his late godfather though, Harry quickly pointed out that no cage, Muggle or wizard, could conceivably contain the members of the Order of Phoenix. Vernon's retort consisted of a snort and an extra violent thud as he pitched Harry's belongings into the trunk of the car where the lid sprung open. Harry's Aunt Petunia jumped slightly at the noise of Harry's belongings spewing out of his trunk, her face still pale from their encounter with Remus Lupin, Moody, Tonks and the Weasleys. She hadn't taken her eyes off of Harry while Harry found himself unable to meet his aunt's gaze. After detangling his invisibility cloak from his Firebolt and stuffing a wayward Marauder's Map into his pocket, Harry climbed into the car, lodging Hedwig, cage and all, between his knees. Beside him, Dudley was making a noble effort at scrunching his wide body as far away (as possible) from the wand sticking out of Harry's back pocket.

"By the way, Potter," Vernon sneered as they pulled out of the train station's parking lot, "I saw on the news that they've called off the hunt for that Black character." Harry froze from trying to fold up the invisibility cloak that was covering a twittering Hedwig. "Been arrested, has he? Did your idiotic godfather finally get caught?"

Harry's jaw tightened along with his stomach and he practically punched the cloak all the way into his pocket, wishing he could shrink it with magic, and shrink his uncle's…as well. Dudley flattened himself against the back door of the passenger side as they drove down the street. Harry risked a glance at Petunia and immediately regretted it. The percentage of respect for her that had recently bloomed in Harry was replaced once again by sincere loathing, even though Petunia was of Lily's blood. Vernon cackled then, marveling at his joke while Harry marveled at his cold-hearted ignorance. Petunia swallowed visibly, and turned away from Harry to look out her window. Harry was about to dive into asking Petunia why, why she promised Dumbledore that she would allow Harry to stay in her house—when his scar, _the_ scar, suddenly detonated with pain.

"Stop the car." Harry managed through clamped teeth, both sets of knuckles digging into his forehead. When the only reaction from Vernon was an odd look in the rear view mirror, Harry bellowed, "Stop!" Vernon, simply out of surprise, did so just as they turned onto Magnolia road.

"What the bloody hell are you on about you foolhardy delinquent? Honestly, stopping us for a headache, as obnoxious as his father, thirsty for attention…"

But Harry heard none of this. He'd leapt from the car, his wand unsheathed. Harry was certain smoke would seep out of his scar at any moment.

"…he's just trying to scare us, Petunia darling, thinks he can intimidate a Dursley, put that damn stick away, boy…"

Something was wrong. Harry knew this as well as Hermione knew _Hogwarts, A History_. His wand was vibrating, his scar was throbbing, and Hedwig was hooting uproariously and Vernon was still—

"…outrageous, should've left him with those bloody redheads. There's nothing out there you idiot child, shut up that blasted pigeon and get back in…"

From hard experience Harry could tell that the amount of pain in his scar indicated that Voldemort was practically giddy with murderous glee. But there were no dark wizards in sight. Harry had just lowered his wand, after taking a last look around the neighborhood, and turned back when the Dursley's car _exploded_ into bright green flames and was instantly engulfed without a breath of resistance from its passengers.

Harry was tossed backwards from the force of the oddly cold shockwave. His shoulder was scraped across the pavement and began to bleed through his t-shirt even before his body came to a halt. "Hedwig! Aunt Petunia!" Harry's cries were overwhelmed by the gusting roar and went unheard even by the cloaked figures slowly emerging from behind trees and bushes lining the road opposite of Harry, beyond the shielding emerald smoke of the car. His wand arm nearly useless, Harry managed to whip the invisibility cloak out with his left hand, and cover himself up before any of the Death Eaters could spot him. Looking at the green smoke through the silky fog of the cloak, Harry was reminded of burning tents at the Quiddich World Cup, but not even they were engulfed as quickly and violently as the Dursley's automobile.

There were a half dozen of them, but only three approached the ashes. The Death Eater closest to Harry had a silver hand that was noticeably trembling. On Harry's left a tall figure slowly lowered his hood and grinned a sickening smile that nearly looked normal in the summer sunlight.

"The Flame will make short work of a house," Karkaroff seemed quite pleased with himself. The ex-Durmstrang headmaster pocketed his wand. "The Dark Lord will certainly approve, especially considering we hit two owls with one stone." Harry could almost hear Wormtail gulp as the silver hand quivered all the more.

"Simply lucky for you, Karkaroff, only now will our Dark Lord trust you. But you, rat, it seems to me that you _meant_ to miss the car." Harry's heart did a lap around his chest. He knew that voice. Bellatrix Lestrange was pointing at a scorch mark on the pavement on Harry's right where Wormtail's own blast of green fire had hit. She continued her taunting, but something internally intense had caused Harry's ears to pop, deafening him. All he heard was his own distinct scream reverberating inside his chest when, in what appeared to be slow motion, Sirius' cousin lowered her hood, a mad snicker on her taunt face.

It felt like the snake was inside him again, but this time Harry was in control. He was on his feet and pointing his wand and this time he _meant_ it—

"_CRUCIO_!"

Harry's deafness was instantly cured as Bellatrix Lestrange's shrieks of agony echoed throughout the quiet British neighborhood. The remaining upright Death Eaters immediately pivoted towards the suddenly visible Harry, but he was off and running before their wands could follow, the cloak trailing half-heartedly behind him. Harry had leapt over a line of bushes and ducked behind a fence before the first stunning spell nearly grazed his bleeding shoulder. A moment later a flash of green light collided with a nearby mailbox. Footsteps, though muffled by the grass of the perfectly pruned lawns Harry was being chased through were loudening as Harry struggled to speed up. He kept throwing blind stunners and shield charms over his shoulder as he weaved between houses, but his enemies were gaining on him, shouting out curses, swears and spells, as they went. For a moment Harry remembered that he would be magically protected if he managed to reach the Dursley house. But then another memory resurfaced, one of an uncharacteristically agitated Dumbledore telling Harry that he would be safe only as long as his mother's blood dwelled at his home.

Harry groaned. An emerald spell shot under his elbow, causing him to change direction as he ran through a playground. However, that distressing realization did give him an idea.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

As the silver stag erupted from his wand, Harry pivoted in the opposite direction, ducking around the corner of a nearby house as Prongs galloped away. Strings of swear words followed by frantic orders reassured Harry his patronus had distracted the Death Eaters. Harry pocketed his wand and stuffed the invisibility cloak securely into his pocket with the Marauder's Map. Squinting, he recognized a street sign and cut across the lawn in the direction Mrs. Figg's house, but then noticed cold green smoke drifting up through the treetops from the direction of Privet drive. No more protection there. The Dark Mark floated into sight as Harry dashed three blocks in the opposite direction, unsure of where he was really heading. He'd just ducked behind a wheelbarrow overflowing with mulch when a fourth servant of Voldemort appeared across the street, glancing in the flowerbeds of another house, his back to Harry. Harry quickly unraveled the invisibility cloak when Wormtail himself came around a house behind Harry, looking in the front windows, his wand raised but quaking. Harry gulped, he was surrounded. As quickly as possible, he flipped the cloak over his bleeding shoulder and was just about to put it on when a sudden memory invaded his thoughts.

Of all the images to occur to him during a life or death situation, Harry's last expectation was a parade of mirrors: the one at the Leaky Cauldron that kept commenting on his hair, seeing Goyle's reflection where his own should've been, the mirror at Hermione 's bedside that she'd used to peek around corners for the basilisk, sitting in front of the Mirror of Erised holding pretend conversations with his parents, the mirror over the mantelpiece in the Weasley's kitchen…chucking a square two-way mirror into the bottom of his trunk and watching it shatter…

_Sirius_.

Never before had such a captivating, all-encompassing thought entered Harry's eternally plagued mind. He'd spent his career as a wizard fighting for his life, never giving up, always knowing he had a reason to live. And from the moment he'd realized he had a loving godfather, Sirius had been that reason. But now…

Harry rose, his joints creaking, his scar aching. Robotically, ceremoniously he returned his wand to his left pocket. A suffocating root of numbness meandered through Harry's body, smothering all instincts of self-preservation. Harry just stood there, looking to his left and right at the Death Eaters who had yet to notice his sacrificial presence. His arms lay limply at his sides, his eyes merely blinking from lack of emotion. The fulfilled prophecy and the grieving images of Ron and Hermione threatened to overshadow the vision of seeing his godfather again, but the numbness suppressed them, and Harry Potter, all purpose and fate forgotten, stood there and waited for death to sniper him.

And he couldn't care less…

"Harry?" A timid voice broke through the numb shell, and Harry's eyes focused once more. "Harry Potter?" Harry glanced around to find a skinny redheaded boy approaching suddenly next to the wheelbarrow. His senses returned with recognition.

"Mark Evans?"

The 11-year-old smiled broadly and moved as if to hug or shake hands or wave or some combination, but he settled with stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Hiya, Harry! Haven't seen you all year! Whatcha doing in my yard—are you waiting for someone—isn't it a lovely day?—"

But Harry bolted around the mulch, grabbed Mark by the elbow and dragged him towards the nearby house.

"Hey Harry, what's that stick in your pocket?"

"Mark, Mark listen to me, I need you to get inside the house right now! There are…bad guys around here—"

"Hey Harry, you know, that cousin of yours tried to jump me last week but you know what I did I just ran and took, like, three steps and he couldn't catch his breath…"

"Mark! For Merlin's sake shut your mouth!" The heels of the red-headed Colin Creevy were dragged across the grass as Harry tugged him through the lawn and up steps of the back porch, pushing Mark in after yanking open the screen door. Mark was too busy systematically brushing the dirt off of his jeans to notice the panicked look on Harry who ran both hands violently through his hair after closing the door and locking it. _I was about to let them kill me, and I was perfectly content with dying…Bloody Hell…_

The first thing that Harry noticed about the Evans' house was that it resembled Mrs. Figg's' more than the Dursleys. It actually looked like it was lived in, as if it were a home rather than a trophy, imagine that. The dining room led into the living room where dozens and dozens of potted plants lined bookshelves and windowsills. The combined aroma of the flowers cheered up the room, and Harry.

"So, Harry, how was your year at—what school are you going to now?"

"Er," Harry was finding Mark even more annoying than the first years at Hogwarts and was already regretting saving his life from the Death Eaters, not to mention Dudley. "It's called, well," Harry squinted out a window. He could've sworn he saw a moving shadow in the corner of the Evans' yard. "You see, um…"

"Mark! MARK! Time to come inside—oh! Why hello there!"

A tall but chubby man with the same Weasley-colored hair as Mark had paraded down the stairs near the front door of the house. He stopped at the sight of Harry and was observing him not with suspicion but a preposterously cheerful smile. Harry offered the stranger a less than heartfelt wave with his left hand before raising it to his throbbing right shoulder which had begun to drip blood onto the floor.

"Dad," Mark stepped forward, "This is Harry Potter, Dad. He's the one who used to look after me on the playground."

"Oh my, you're quite the hero, Harry Potter." It occurred to Harry that it was nearly heavenly to be recognized for who he was, not what the scar had made him. _And I was ready to die…_"It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Host, Host Evans." _I used an Unforgivable…_

"Host?"

"Short for Hosta, it's a flower, not exactly manly, mind you, but that's my mother's fault." Host aimed a rather exaggerated wink in Harry's direction. "I have a daughter as well, Daisy. My wife let me carry on the tradition of Evans' naming their children after flowers."

Harry blinked. The names were tap-dancing across his mind.

…Daisy...

…Evans

"Anyway," Hosta continued as he pressed an entire roll of Muggle paper towels to Harry's shoulder, his voice dropping to a concerned fatherly tone after the first half of the sentence, "I'm sure you and Mark have some catching up to do, I'll wash the blood out of that shirt of yours and later on we can talk about what happened to you? Just feel free to call this place home for now, I hope your shoulder's all right?" Host's voice shifted from pleasantness to seriousness and back to a comforting familiarity. Gears and cogs were shifting in Harry's mind so loudly that he wondered if the two Evans' could hear them.

"Yeah, sure," Harry muttered in a daze, now staring at the bright red hair of father and son. And their green eyes. "I can call this home." Hosta smiled, gave a curt nod and hobbled into the kitchen. "Um, Mark, do you have any aunts? I mean, on your father's side?"

"Nope, but hey Harry, hey, can you tell me how you handle Dud—"

"Mark, wait a second." Harry held up his hand in a stop signal and only then he held it up did he realize it was shaking. "Mark…Could you tell me abo—" But just then an actual silhouette passed across the room and when Harry looked up he saw a dark, hooded figure just beyond the front porch. Harry was about to shove Mark to the carpet and draw his wand when the approaching figure suddenly seemed to collide with some sort of invisible barrier. He took his wand out and poked it, then paced up and down the perimeter, searching for an opening. He was about to try a spell when suddenly, he grabbed at his forearm, then Disapparated away.

"…yeah, Harry, and my teachers this year were sooooo hard! Like, I can't do science to save my life. Did you hear about that criminal they finally captured? Yeah me too, I heard directly from the coolest guy in my class…"

Degree by degree, Harry turned back around to Mark who had switched on the television and looked absurdly innocent as he sat, clueless, on the couch. "Evans…" Harry whispered to himself. He suddenly felt cold, as if the shockwave from the green fire had blown through him again. His throat felt clogged up with an unlikely combination of emotions Harry had yet to experience.

Lily, Petunia, Hosta, Daisy…Evans.  
_  
_"Mark?" The kid looked up and green eyes met green eyes. Harry took a deep breath. "Could you _please_ tell me about your family?"


	3. Godfather Clocks

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus

**Author's Notes:** Thank you for the reviews! And just a thought: I realize that JKR says there's no relation and nothing remarkable about Mark Evans, but all things considered, should we really believe that?

_Chapter 1: _

**Godfather Clocks**

"Sirius was staring at the patch of carpet where the boggart, pretending to be Harry's body, had lain." –(5, 176)

It was a solid two hours before Mark ran out of stories, details and random facts (or simply got fed up with Harry's odd questions) about his relatives, including his deceased grandparents: Harold and Rose Evans (who'd been named for her red hair). The corner of Harry's heart that housed the memories of James, Lily and Sirius healed a bit as he learned about his lost family. Yet the opposite corner where every teenage boy's anger is stoked by confusion, frustration, betrayal and hurt, festered all the more raw. Part of Harry wanted to just stay with his family, let the wizarding world think he'd died in that car fire. And part of him, because Harry was quite sure he knew who to blame for the neglect, wanted to strangle Albus Dumbledore.

Mark was just finishing telling Harry that neither one of his grandparents wore glasses when there was an abrupt knock on the front door. Harry couldn't see from his seat in the living room but he heard Host skip down the stairs (whistling as he went), and answer. A deep, indistinguishable voice harshly echoed and Harry's chest suddenly had half a dozen Golden Snitches fluttering laps around his heart.

"Why, um, yes, he is here, actually. Harry! Would you like to come inside…sir?"

Harry rose, knees rattling, fist clasped around the wand in his pocket. He didn't know whether to think the Death Eaters had broken the barrier he'd accidentally initiated, or if this really wasn't his family, which seemed worse. Harry was about to yell at Host to get out of the way, his inherent Gryffindor courage instinctively taking control, when a cloaked wizard rounded the corner, beginning to yell Harry's name just as Harry began to say Host's.

"Remus?"

"Harry! Oh Harry…" Lupin gasped, lowering his wand at the sight of Mark sitting cross-legged and curious on the couch. Remus gave a great exhale and leaned weakly against a nearby wall. "Harry, are you all right?" came the werewolf's muffled voice from behind both hands pressed so tightly to his face that his fingers jointed into a mold.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, "Yeah, I'm fine." Harry found himself more relieved that he truly had stumbled upon family than that Voldemort himself wasn't before him.

Remus seemed to be having trouble swallowing. "Good…Oh good. You had us worried. We'd better let— " Host had come up behind him, "Let your aunt and uncle know you're safe."

"Right, yeah."

Host, though he looked a little suspicious of the exchange, shook Harry's hand and invited him to visit Mark whenever he wanted. Mark had Harry by the waist in a hug as he and Lupin walked out, Harry's clothes (visible or otherwise) piled in Lupin's arms.

"Will I see you soon, Harry?"

"Why not, Mark." Harry responded automatically. Then something occurred to him, and he whispered more sincerely, "Especially if you happen to get a letter from an owl this summer."

Mark Evans was still frowning from the doorway when Harry and Remus walked down the driveway. The two wizards grasped the wands in their pockets as they inspected the dark but quiet neighborhood from street sign to street sign. As they neared the street, Harry was surprised to see not a dozen Aurors but a simple green Ford Anglia.

"You _drove_ here?"

"Well, yes, actually. I do have some Muggle family, you know. There may still be Death Eaters around and they would detect any magical means of transportation. My brother taught me how to drive years ago. I sort of, er, borrowed this." It occurred to Harry that Lupin's definition of "borrowed" was probably influenced by his father and godfather.

Harry sighed as he settled into a familiar passenger seat, wondering if this one would fly. Remus, who had yet to really meet Harry's eyes, was fumbling with the key. "So how did you find me?"

Lupin dropped the key and had to feel around for it under the seat. "Werewolf senses," he shrugged. "Everyone else gave up about an hour ago; there was nothing left from the fire."

"I've never seen anything like that, Remus." Harry muttered, "I overheard the Death Eaters talking about how it could destroy a house just as fast."

"Yes, your uncle's house isn't much of a trophy anymore…The Order has feared for some time now that they may have developed some new spells. But I smelled your blood and traced it to this house. I uh, recognized James' scent."

It seemed to Harry that he should've said something witty like "So now I not only look like my dad but I smell like him too?" But somehow the adrenaline rush of over-protectiveness that had inspired him to defend Mark was reversing back to the handicapping numbness.

Lupin finally had the key pointed in the right direction, but couldn't seem to insert it. "Remus," Harry wavered, "Is everything all right?"

"Of course," he snorted, forcing a short laugh. "You should've seen Arabella. She and the other Guardians were choking on hairballs when they reported you missing. The Weasleys and I were just leaving the train station when a herd of owls dive-bombed everyone with red hair. Dumbledore contacted us the moment he heard. And when Arthur and I met the Aurors at what was left…We should probably head straight for the Burrow, they'll want to know that you're…still alive." The key finally slipped in, but suddenly Remus couldn't seem to find the strength to turn it. When Harry glanced up to his right, he was taken aback to witness Lupin's forehead slump against the steering wheel, his eyelashes flickering.

"Remus…" Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Remus it's ok, I'm all right." Lupin remained still. "Remus, it's not a big deal—"

"Oh but it is, Harry, it really, really is. It's a big deal that the Dursleys are dead, it's a big deal that they were killed by a spell we've never heard of, it's a big deal that Voldemort is aware that you're still alive, it's a big deal that you willingly used an Unforgivable, and we'd hoped that you would never find out about Host and his family…"

Harry, who'd been about to get defensive about using Cruciatus, instantly shifted gears, "You knew about them?! Why the bloody Hell wasn't I dumped on _their_ doorstep?"

"Yes I know about them, Harry. I met Host when Lily took the Marauders home to meet her family seventh year when she and James started dating."

"But he didn't recognize you—"

"I didn't expect him to. Your mother erased any memory of me, everything about the wizarding world, the days before she died. During the war, she wanted to protect her Muggle family, especially because she was marked. So Lily erased their memories of her. Very complicated magic, a simple memory charm like that Lockhart character did on himself wouldn't do the trick. She performed the spells on her brother and his family and your grandparents and was planning the same thing for your Aunt Petunia, who had all but alienated herself from her family already. Apparently Lily shouldn't have been worried, it wasn't like Petunia was going to speak of it even if she did visit her mum and dad. Your aunt wasn't an angel, Harry, but it did break Lily's heart that she divided her family just for being who she was."

Remus swallowed heavily and raised his head from the steering wheel. His fingers were playing with the lining of the cloak which sat half-visible in his lap. "So that's why you got stuck with the Dursleys. I assure you they were nobody's first choice. But it was a wise alternative to keeping you in our world where every Voldemort supporter would've been after you. Dumbledore sentenced you to 10 years, only partially knowing how awful it would be. Everything Dumbledore has done has been for your own good, Harry, I hope you realize that. He wanted to honor your mother's wish, to not have her brother and parents involved, and therefore in danger."

Harry was sitting quite rigid in his seat. However sincere the Hogwarts headmaster's intentions were, this was just another incident to add to the list of things Harry would never forgive Dumbledore for not telling him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes and ached for Ron and Hermione. After multiple moments of silence, Remus finally started the car.

And immediately switched it off.

"Harry I have something for you." Harry opened his eyes to see Lupin patting one pocket after another. "Molly got them to me when we met at the station. I already gave Ron and Hermione theirs but I wanted to wait until you and I were alone. Would've given me an excuse to visit." He fished a wristwatch out of his cloak and only then did Harry notice that Lupin was wearing one. "We've been thinking about mass-producing these for the Order to keep track of everyone. I think Fred and George have their own version, but those tend to keep track of when your friend picks his nose."

The Watches automatically reminded Harry of the grandfather clock at the Burrow. In the same font of the Marauder's map, where the numbers were supposed to be, were labels such as "Hogwarts," "HQ," and "Mortal Peril." As Harry's eyes passed over each word, the letters instantly swelled to a readable size. But the spots on the Weasley clock that usually read "Dentist" or "Prison" were replaced by small dots of ink. As Harry watched, though, one of the dots bullied "HQ" and "Hogwarts" out of its way and morphed into "Backyard" while another was sprouting into a line of words: "Sitting at the kitchen table…not eating yet, no clue what he's waiting for…" Harry wondered if Mrs. Weasley and the twins had managed to channel the Fat Lady's impatience into the Watches. The hands of the clock were not tiny pictures but four elongated pairs of initials sticking out from the center: HP, RL, RW and HG.

Harry smiled as "Backyard" morphed into "Feeding Crookshanks." "Thank you," Harry whispered, the numbness dissipating again. "This is brilliant, Remus. So this is how you knew I was still alive?"

"No, they weren't tracking you yet. You can set the Watch to who it's supposed to keep track of, but until that person touches it, it won't be activated. If someone doesn't want to be watched, the Watch isn't initiated."

"I guess that rules out setting one of these to Voldemort."

Remus didn't respond. When Harry risked another glance he had to repeat "Remus, I'm all right, really."

Lupin composed himself. "Harry, there's something I've been meaning to ask you since, since Sirius…" He took a deep breath. "Do you remember that night at the Grimmauld Place when Molly couldn't get rid of that boggart?"

Harry nodded, frowning, not blinking. "I remember it was shaped like…like Ron…and it turned into me as well."

"Yes and your godfather didn't stop staring at that floor where your dead body was until long after you'd left. Sirius and I had a long conversation that night; the most intense we've had since he decided to become an animagus for me. That night he made me promise that if he were ever…gone, I would protect you and, tonight I thought I'd broken my promise. I thought I'd lost you. It felt like I had lost James all over again. Felt like the _combination_ of losing James and Sirius. Except somehow worse."

"What could possibly be worse than losing your two best friends…" Harry wondered out loud. He looked at the Watch he'd strapped to his left wrist.

"Letting them down…Not fulfilling the promise I made to Sirius, the very same one he made to your parents." Lupin massaged his eyelids. "Harry…when you were born, Sirius was the obvious choice for your godfather. But one night when I was visiting and James and Sirius were in another room, it was just your mother and I standing in front of your crib, just looking at you. And Lily told me that if I were a woman I'd be your godmother." Remus grinned at the memory. Harry couldn't have smiled if one of the twins had stuffed a Ticklish Delight down his throat. "So she decided that I was your god_wolf_. And then, when James and Lily died, when I thought I'd lost Sirius and Peter, all I wanted was you…And for months I pleaded with Dumbledore to let me raise you, to be your legal guardian. I felt like I'd let them down by not being the one to take care of you…And the depression I went into lasted 7 years…"

"Harry…I'm not your legal guardian. I'm not your father or your godfather, your brother or your best friend. I'm not your bodyguard or even your professor anymore but Harry, I swore that I would protect you and I, I promised Sirius that I would ask you—"

But Harry had already unbuckled himself, lunged to his right and had his arms wrapped around Remus' neck. "Please let me call you godfather," Harry croaked. He didn't give a damn about defying the tears that had been filling up that entire day. "Please be my godfather, Remus, please." Lupin whispered that nothing in the world mattered more to him, then eased his forehead into Harry's black hair and held him.

Five minutes later they parted, and Remus finally started the car. As they pulled away from the Evans' house, Harry glanced at his Watch in the light of the streetlamps.

What he saw liquidated his heart. One of the initialed hands was moving towards…

"Uh, Remus? Are you sure these things work right?"

"The Watches? Of course. I did help make a flawless Marauder's Map—why?"

"Well I suggest you look at yours, and drive faster."

Remus risked a look down as they turned out of Magnolia Road. Just then Harry bent at the waist and dug his forehead into his knees. Vomit splashed across his muddy shoes.

The scar was scorching.

RW was pointing at "Mortal Peril."


	4. The Inflatable Fireplace

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus

_Chapter 3: _

**The Inflatable Fireplace**

" …and Percy's not talking to us…What if something d-d-dreadful happens and we had never m-m-made up?" –Molly (5, 177)

The first thing they saw was the Dark Mark.

It hovered, getting bigger as the horizon got closer, green and glittering in a dark emerald fog of smoke. The snake that stuck out like a tongue from the skull's jaw was swaying back and forth in a gruesome dance. Remus cursed (the only time Harry had even heard him do so) and urged the car faster as they sped down the long drive-way that led to the Burrow. Harry, deflated all the more by the sight of the death omen, sank lower into his seat. The night air was oddly cold when Remus leapt out not a moment after he put the Anglia into park. Lupin jogged forward, his silhouette outlined in green from the eerie flames sprouting where the Burrow used to be. Harry slowly emerged from the car and went to stand next to his godfather, though he only managed to get half-way there. Harry felt absolutely nothing as he stared at the ashes. He knew what the Mark meant, he knew what the flames meant, he knew what the throbbing in his scar and Remus' shouts and the realization that he'd half-gained one family and lost another within an hour…cold invaded Harry Potter's entire being. He didn't even feel the impact of his knees hitting the dirt.

Harry's heart screamed for Ron, but he couldn't even hear it anymore. And the dancing skull above his head found the entire scene quite amusing.

Remus was speaking, something about leaving in case the Death Eaters came back, something about contacting Dumbledore, something about how they could've escaped through the fireplace but Harry had seen the speed of the flames so he merely nodded.

In his mind a 13-year-old redhead was standing on a broken leg and yelling "If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!"

_It's my fault, it's my fault everything's my fault I either lead people to their deaths or lead death to them… _

Suddenly there were two popping sounds from behind them. Harry registered the whooshing sound of Remus whipping out his wand as he pivoted past his godson. But Harry remained still, his eyes glued to the ashes, half expecting, half wanting a murdering green spell to pass through his back and into his already shattered heart. But two syllables from a familiar voice repaired his heart faster than it could beat.

"Harry?"

Arthur and Molly Weasley, stained, singed, and shaking but oh so very much alive dashed forward and sandwiched Harry in a ferocious embrace. "You're alive!" all three wizards exclaimed at one another. Molly wiped her dirty face, which had vertical beelines of tears down her cheeks, on Mark Evans' borrowed t-shirt as she continued to hug Harry with all her might.

"Maun?" Harry asked from the dip between her neck and shoulder, "Mare's Maun? Mand Minny?"

"They're ok, Harry," Mr. Weasley assured him. Harry felt weak again, and he stopped resisting Molly's arms. "But Ron was still unconscious when we left. They're with Fred and George."

"What happened?" Remus quietly asked.

"Oddest thing," Mr. Weasley was trying too hard to force a smile. He ran dirty fingers through his fading red hair and several flakes of ash dropped out. "We sat down to eat, but didn't really get to that because we'd yet to hear how Harry was…" He stared at Harry for a long moment. Molly's hands remained securely on Harry's shoulders and he leaned back against her.

"Well, the four of us were at the table when this bloody _comet_ of green flame came through the roof, went straight through that ghoul in our attic and took out my collection of bightlulbs." Mrs. Weasley snorted so loudly that the force of it flattened Harry's uncontrollable black hair. "And suddenly there was green fire everywhere. We ran for the door and Ginny opened it but there were Death Eaters all around the perimeter, and the closest one shot a curse at Ginny." Arthur took a shaky breath.

Remus spoke up, though his voice had quieted down even more. "It was a new spell, wasn't it, an incantation you've never heard before." Harry's frown deepened. He was struggling to hear Remus, struggling to hear any of their voices, they just sounded so far away. Harry was still waiting for the numbness to fade away again…

Arthur nodded, "I can't even remember how it was pronounced. And it hit Ron, right in the chest. He pushed Ginny out of the way." Harry closed his eyes and swallowed. Molly patted his back.

"So how did you get out?" Remus urged.

Arthur shook his head. He raised his eyes as if avoiding theirs, and stared at the hovering Dark Mark. "We almost didn't. They had us completely surrounded, and the fire was eating everything up fast. But it was so cold. There wasn't just an absence of heat like one of those prank fireworks the twins buy in Hogsmeade, it was actually freezing." Harry felt he should've spoken up then, but he couldn't summon the motivation. "They had disconnected us from the Floo Network and put an anti-Disapparation jinx over the house. We thought we were trapped." Arthur suddenly grinned and reached into his pocket. "But then I remembered this."

What he put under Harry's nose was just a maroon brick inscribed with "WWW." Harry blinked. He felt like saying "You threw this through a window?" but nothing came out. He wanted to see Ron.

"An Instant, Portable, Inflatable, Pre-Floo-Powdered One-Way Fireplace." Molly recited at monotone. "Or an "IF," Inflatable Fireplace. My son's latest invention for creatively advertising their little joke shop."

"Which saved our lives, dear." Arthur reminded her, all of the humor uncharacteristically gone from his voice. "And the lives of our children." Molly nodded. "The twins gave us a few prototypes while we were waiting for the train. They haven't exactly experimented with them yet but basically if you need to buy something, every IF is supposed to take you right to the shop, during open hours of course. They regulate it through their permanent fireplace."

"How ingenious," Remus smiled, crossing his arms to his chest. Just then the light from the Dark Mark re-caught Remus' eyes and with a whip of his wand he punctured it. Skull and snake sailed away, a cackling green kite. Harry was warming up now that the remaining flames had burned out. "Thank Merlin it worked."

"Yes indeed. I scooped up Ron and we all scrambled through just in time…"

"Can I take it to go see Ron?" Harry finally erupted, though it came out as a faint whisper.

"Oh, oh yes, of course," Arthur said as if suddenly remembering that Harry was there. Arthur traced the middle "W" with his forefinger while chanting "Whiz Wheeze Whereabouts" and before Harry's eyes the brick was suddenly two bricks, which multiplied into a dozen, followed by twice as many. Soon there was an entire square brick archway blocking Remus from Harry's sight, the three "W"s had sprouted into the full name, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

"Off you go, Harry," Molly nudged him into the fireplace; "Arthur and I need to have a little talk with Remus."

Harry didn't hesitate but stepped through and was engulfed with maroon flames. Half a moment later he tumbled into the lobby of Fred and George's joke shop, making a mental note to remind the twins to fix the reentry speed. Harry would've been able to figure out where he was even if he hadn't been told; it could hardly be anyplace else in the world, wizard or Muggle. Although the only light leaking in was from the lamps lining Diagon Ally, Harry was still nearly blinded by the brightness of the store. Shelves of various lengths, colors and shapes were lined with candies wrapped in assorted packaging, barrels of fireworks with their lit samples still bouncing around the room, packets of trick wands that automatically magnifies the spell back on the caster, automatic quicksand to compliment the Hogwarts swamp, and a variety of drinks guaranteed to sprout facial hair, cure bad breath or cause purple bogeys. Harry was about to pluck an Exploding Snitch from a fake Snidget nest when he heard Weasley voices. He looked past the front counter and spotted a skinny spiral staircase disappearing behind a wall.

"Meanus Clemente?"

"No no, the first word started with "Mo" and the second with an "L."

"Moses Leche?"

"Moron Latte?" The first voice was Fred, the third, George. Or vice versa, Harry wasn't sure and didn't care. He started climbing two steps at a time as Ginny continued to scold her brothers.

"Oh you two, you're just confusing us more."

"Mum must've given you two "Moron Lattes" when you were little you—" the sentence was interrupted by a few moments of heavy coughing, "…unhelpful gits!"

Harry had just reached the second floor when he tracked the voices to a door across from the stairs, the second of two bedrooms. At the sound of that fourth familiar voice, his heart catapulted him into the room.

"I think you were closer the second time. Moonish Lagoon, Morris Lamp—_HARRY_!"

Harry barreled past the stunned twins, nearly through Ginny and literally dived into the bed where a currently conscious Ron was sitting up and leaning on his knees. Wordlessly, the two best friends embraced and after the initial shock Harry felt three hands against his back.

"Blimey Harry, we thought you were dead," one of the twins whispered. Ginny sniffled in agreement and Ron squeezed Harry even tighter, digging his face into Harry's shoulder. But then Ron's grip slackened and Harry had to quickly readjust his weight to maneuver Ron's weakened body into the pillows. Harry immediately sensed his friend's exhaustion, though Ron was grinning with relief. Simultaneously, each asked if the other was ok.

"Fine, mate," Ron assured him only after Harry had answered. Ron turned and coughed towards the corner of the wall before speaking again, a little hoarsely. "Just a little tired, don't know what hit me." Harry ran his trembling fingers through his black hair and found himself sympathetic of how Remus must've felt just an hour before. His nose and lips suddenly crinkled.

"Harry, I'm ok," Ron whispered, his voice husky. "I'm all right, Harry…"

Harry settled himself beside his best friend, took his glasses off and dug his fists into his eyes, surprised that there were any tears left inside of him. When he could focus again he got a good look at Ron, who was just as dirty as the rest of them, but alarmingly pale beneath the soot. The thought-welts from the brain in the Department of Mysteries still crisscrossed his forearms, but the red spell mark on Ron's bare chest, shaped like a single raindrop having hit pavement, looked like it would leave a scar as well from the burn. Ron shifted onto his side and Harry caught the wince of pain his friend tried to hide. Ron coughed again. "Is it cold in here?"

Harry, trying to disguise his own movements, leaned in to pull the blankets up to Ron's chin. He could feel the heat even from six inches away. Ron had a fever.

"Don't get comfortable, Ronnie," Fred said after Harry offered a quick summary of what had happened to him. The Weasleys mourned more for Hedwig and the Firebolt than the Dursleys. "Is Pig…?" "We'd sent him to Bill before we left the train station."

"Yeah," George echoed from the end of Ron's bed, "We do charge rent, you know." There was a hint of a smile on his face that barely reached his eyes as he stared at his little brother.

"We won't be staying long," came a voice from the door. Lupin had arrived, Arthur right behind him. Molly shouldered her way into the bedroom and went to sit at Ron's chest, kissing her son on the forehead and whispering to him as she stroked his hair. "We need to find a safer place for Harry at least."

"No," Harry said, though he was looking at Ron while talking to Remus. "I want to stay with them." He found himself memorizing every freckle.

Remus sighed but didn't argue. "I better go update Dumbledore. Molly—"

"We'll look after him, Remus."

Harry heard Remus sigh once more, then a pop when he Disapparated away. Ron suddenly coughed again, violently this time, and it lasted too long. When he plopped back down from his mother's shoulder, Harry saw speckles of blood on Molly's shirt, and a sliver of it around Ron's lips. Renewed fear seized everyone in the room, excluding Ron, whose eyes were closed as he concentrated on regulating his breathing, not even noticing the blood when he began to cough again.

"Arthur—"

"I'll get Madam Pomfrey herself, Molly."

"So, any luck on that pronunciation? Do you remember it at all?" Molly asked, turning to her daughter as Arthur Disapparated and Ron continued the uncontrollable spasms. Molly's fingers quivered as she continued to comb them through his red hair.

"Vaguely. Fred and George just confused us more!"

The twins looked offended. "It's not our fault Ronnie opted to dive in front of the spell instead of taking notes on it!" Fred exclaimed.

"I think he's faking it." George winked at his brother whose eyes were only half open, finally resting quietly against the pillows. Ron smiled back, but seemed to be in a semi-conscious daze. His hand reached for Harry's who took it in both of his. "I'm kicking him out of my bed tonight whether he likes it or not. And if you lot are staying here, you're either paying rent or letting us experiment on you!" Harry wanted to laugh but his throat felt like he'd swallowed a swollen house-elf.

A moment later there was a high-pitched shriek as someone tumbled out of the downstairs fireplace. Apparently Arthur had landed nearly on top of Madam Pomfrey because she squawked again before the thump of Mr. Weasley's butt hitting the ground echoed throughout the shop. Harry, Ginny and the twins ("Hiya, Poppy!") were promptly shooed out of the room when the nurse, (barefoot and clothed in a nightdress and robe) bustled up the stairs, and were let back in a quarter-hour later when she finally emerged. She looked bedraggled but in a flustered whirlwind fixed Harry's shoulder, a patch of acne on Ginny's chin, told Molly to lose some weight and checked Arthur's blood pressure without looking before she staggered down the stairs and through the fireplace. Harry hurried inside, followed by the Weasley siblings, and found Ron asleep, the red mark of the spell nearly erased. Molly had brought a chair up beside the bed and watched her son sleep while Arthur hissed at them to be quiet, then whispered what the nurse had told them.

"Nasty spell, this one." Arthur shook his head, as unable to take his eyes off of Ron as Harry was. "Went straight into his heart, sent little daggers through his blood stream that punctured his organs. Internal bleeding isn't too quick of a fix, mind you. But apparently it could've been worse, the Death Eaters are probably working to make the daggers bigger, whatever they're actually made of. Eventually that spell could enter someone and the next minute they could be a pincushion, internal organs impaled straight through." Harry shivered, mostly at the passive tone of Mr. Weasley's voice, as if he'd gotten used to discussing killing curses. "Plenty of luck tonight, I'd say." Mrs. Weasley sighed at that, and bent once again to kiss Ron's forehead. The fever had been broken and sweat streaked across Ron's skin, but other than that he looked just like he always did when asleep next to Harry in the dormitories. Harry sat down on the edge of the bed again, unusually quiet, even for him. The twins had just settled against the far wall and Ginny had just sat in front of them when yet another Apparation pop echoed from downstairs.

"Fred? George!" a cracking voice called. Whoever it was took an audible deep breath, sniffed rather loudly and called out again, "Guys—the Burrow, the Burrow's been destroyed, people are saying there are no, no survivors—Fred, G-G-George, are you here?" The male voice drifted off into perceptible tears.

All of the Weasleys froze, and Molly and Arthur exchanged intense looks. Suddenly Harry realized he was familiar with the voice, but not that tone. Almost before anyone could blink again Arthur had dashed across the room and down the spiral staircase, closely followed by Molly who'd hesitantly left her son's side. Ginny had her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin in her palms, staring wide-eyed at the door. The twins tensed up and went to stand in the doorframe, watching the exchange below. A moment later Ginny burst into tears and blindly found her way to the door and safely down, her brothers tiptoeing after her, unsure how to react. Harry turned back to Ron as he listened to the tears and exclamations of joy of a reunited family.

"Well, Ron, it's probably a good thing you're unconscious because you'd probably punch him…Percy's back."

By midnight, Ginny was asleep in Fred's room down the hall, and both of the twins were curled up on the floor of George's. Harry still sat on the edge of Ron's bed, concluding that he was fed up with seeing his friends like this. The shadows slithering across Ron's pale face were shaped too much like dementors and Harry found himself feeling unsafe even with the people he loved. He would actually feel better at the Grimmauld Place, even if it wasn't the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters anymore.

_Sirius._ Harry suddenly realized he'd gone a record of five minutes without thinking about his former godfather. He'd been quiet the rest of the evening which seemed to alarm Mrs. Weasley as much as Ron's condition. Sighing, Harry took his shoes off, readjusted the bandage around his shoulder that Madam Pomfrey had magicked on, and sat down on the floor beside Ron's bed like a watchdog, waiting to get tired. Ron groaned in his sleep above him, but voices that swiftly rose from downstairs caught Harry's attention. He tiptoed to the top landing of the spiral staircase, where he could see only a few feet past the twins' cash register, far enough to spot who was down there.

Remus had returned and was leaning resignedly into the counter while Arthur, Molly and Percy formed a half-circle around him. "Dumbledore says we're not going back," Remus was saying. "Even if they can't actually see number 12, they can still burn the entire block down. We can't risk endangering us or the Muggles."

"So perhaps it would be best to hide right under their noses, in a public place." Mr. Weasley offered. "They're going to be searching for Order members in every remote place so they might not even think to look right here."

"How separate from the Ministry will you be?" Percy quietly asked. Harry was shocked at the lack of superciliousness in his voice. "Fudge is increasing the ranks of Aurors, but not very quickly. At this point he seems to be more worried about keeping everyone calm then forming any sort of offensive."

"We take our orders from Dumbledore," Remus said with finality. "And Dumbledore doesn't take his orders from the Ministry. During the first war the Order was looked at as a group of rebels who had their own warped ideas of justice and how to fight back, but the Aurors didn't even know where to start. Some thought we were heroes, most thought we were crazy. But obviously we were the biggest threat to Voldemort considering he tried to kill us all off." Harry noticed that none of the Weasleys flinched at the Dark Lord's name.

"We can do nothing more tonight," Molly said quietly. "I'll talk to Fred and George in the morning, they've been so eager to be official members of the Order anyway. But what about Harry, Remus? He doesn't seem to be himself today."

"Molly I'm not sure if the "himself" he used to be will ever be again."

"But don't—don't you think we should tell him about…? He might perk up if he knew there was a chance that—"

"No, Molly." Remus sighed, casting a flanking glance at Percy who for once wasn't about to butt into business that was not his own. "Dumbledore and I both agree that until something can really be done, we'd better not get his hopes up. I'm going to back to Hogwarts tonight, see if Snape has turned up yet. I'll be back in the morning." Remus Disapparated.

"Well…" Percy began, shifting his weight away from his parents. "I guess I'll get going too. Fudge wants me in by six tomorrow and…" He hesitated amid his own thought process, "And I want to get there early enough to give him my resignation."

"Percy, you don't—"

"I want to, Mum. I'm on your side, and I'm not sure whose side I was on before."

Arthur, who'd been staring contemplatively at a shelf of Rainbow Raisins, spoke up, "Percy, how about you go into work tomorrow and come back here on your lunch break and talk to Dumbledore. If you want to work with the Order, son, you might help best by keeping your job." Percy nodded at that and for a moment Harry saw his old arrogant pride return. For some reason that normality was comforting.

"By the way, dear, how is Penelope doing?"

"Wish I knew. She broke up with me nine months ago…Mum, Dad…" Percy moved to take Lupin's spot leaning against the counter. Harry could see his cheeks flushing from above. "I just wanted—I thought I'd lost my family tonight and I'm sorry about…everything. I was wrong…"

Three quarters of an hour later, Molly slowly climbed the stairs after Arthur and Percy Disapparated. Harry, who'd been pretending to be asleep on the floor, shut his eyes when she entered the room, listened as she sighed then closed the door. Harry fingered the Watch as he drifted off to sleep.

Outside the window a bright star winked down at him.


	5. Secret Keepers

**Author's Notes: **Thank you very much for the reviews, compliments and constructive criticism alike! If you would like to see future chapters, keep reviewing!

**The Man Who Lives**

By: PenPatronus

_Chapter 4:_

**Secret Keepers**

"…he wanted to rush at Dumbledore and break him too; shatter that calm old face, shake him, hurt him, make him feel some tiny part of the horror inside Harry." –(5, 824)

_Harry was watching it all happen, again, as helpless as before—but this time he was watching himself._

_It was like he'd fallen into a Pensieve filled with his own memory. He didn't want to look but couldn't close his eyes, couldn't even blink. He watched himself turn to see Dumbledore glide down the steps past him and Neville, saw everyone in the Death Chamber either greet or curse the wizard's presence, everyone save the duelers on the dais. From his angle Harry could see both his past self's face and his godfather's. Harry saw the light go into Sirius' chest, simultaneously saw his past self's eyes flicker back to Neville for a second long enough to not catch the color of the spell. Sirius' face morphed after contact, changed, still changing as he fell, backwards, into the veil. And then Harry heard Remus' crumpling voice, "He's gone…He can't come back, Harry. He can't come back, because he's d—" _

_The scene suddenly froze right at that first letter and Harry found himself staring at Lupin's mouth, the shape of it, how his tongue was heading towards his front teeth rather than away and for the first time Harry wondered what Lupin had really been about to say. But then the veil, that horrific black veil was expanding, inflating until it stretched into an enormous black shadow from floor to ceiling before curling like the crest of a wave. Like a dark clawed cloud is descended on the rest of the Death Chamber and engulfed Remus, Kingsley, Dumbledore, Harry, Neville, Bellatrix, no one moving to escape it. Harry himself, still rooted to the floor, felt the veil flood into him, fold over his cold body like a noose—_

Harry's own gasps woke him up.

For a moment he still felt the veil smothering him but then reality came into view starting with the comforting familiarity of Ron's breathing.

_The light—the spell that hit Sirius…what color was it…_

And then words shifted into focus: _THE BOY WHO LIVED IS DEAD! _

Harry blinked at the remaining sleep clouding his green eyes. _I am?_ He squinted harder at the front cover of a _Daily Prophet_ that had somehow slid in between Ron's bed and his nose.

_Half of the Weasley Family Murdered_! read the title of another article featuring the familiar bouncing Dark Mark above burnt garden gnomes. Harry frowned and rolled onto his back, muscles aching from sleeping on George's bedroom floor. He rolled right into a pair of legs and, after grabbing his glasses, looked up to see a bushy-haired someone in jeans and a night shirt sitting on the edge of the bed. Harry felt himself go pale. _How would I feel if I saw _her_ obituary!_

"Sorry, Hermione, we should've owled you last night."

Hermione Granger had never looked worse. Tears aged and fresh covered her cheeks, neck, and shadowed the collar of her shirt. As Harry sat up she released Ron's hand and it slumped limply next to her knee. Hermione sniffed and bit her lip as if speaking would unplug more tears. "Hermione, I'm so, so sorry." Harry stood to wrap his arms around her and Hermione didn't raise her own in return, just weakly leaned against Harry's chest. It didn't take but a minute for Harry to feel moisture soak through his own shirt.

"I knew it wasn't true, Harry," Hermione hiccupped when he let go and went to sit at Ron's shoulders. At some point she'd taken Ron's hand in hers again. "Some sort of instinct. If either of you were dead I would've felt it somehow. But you know me, I'm logical." She cocked her head at the newspaper on the floor and held up the Watch on her left wrist. Hermione was silent for a lengthy moment as both of them stared at Ron's hand. She swallowed her voice into a whisper, "But I was scared as Hell."

"Hermione cussed!"

This time Ron's hand was not dropped but thrown onto his bare chest. His eyes were open and face grinning devilishly. Hermione, despite her recent scare and Ron's condition, didn't hesitate to smack him, repeatedly. But Ron didn't even blink. He held an odd expression full of a dozen thoughts that Harry couldn't read. Ron pushed himself up, a little slowly but smooth nonetheless, and it occurred to Harry that their hug lasted longer than his.

"You're feeling better," Harry commented when Ron didn't topple over.

"I'm hungry."

Harry told Hermione all that had happened since they'd parted at King's Cross. She blinked, "Hosta…Isn't, isn't that a type of lily?"

Harry blinked.

"You know a hogwart is a lily too."

Ron blinked. "You really do know everything, don't you."

"That was brave of—of your mum, isn't it fascinating how spells can be designed to only work on Muggles?" Hermione tilted her head and raised bushy eyebrows, "Did Remus mention what charms she used?"

"No."

Hermione sighed.

A knock on the door was followed by an annoyingly awake Ginny Weasley. Harry ran a hand through his hair. "It's past ten fellow D.A. members," she exclaimed with one of those obnoxious baby sister smiles, "Time to go shopping now that we're homeless." Ginny quite shyly looked Ron up and down, "Hey big brother, you feeling better?"

Ron winked at her. "I'm hungry."

Ginny reached up and gathered her red hair into a ponytail, "Mum says for you two to get showered."

"And wear what?" asked Ron, "One of Fred and George's patented Shrinking Trousers?" Ginny rolled her eyes and pointed to the t-shirt she was currently sporting with "WWW" in a kind of comical calligraphy on the front. Harry read "No not that Muggle komputir thingy" on Ginny's back as she exited.

"This is awful, Ron," said Hermione as Harry helped him up. "Your family lost everything."

"No we didn't, we're bloody poor, Hermione! You can't lose what you don't have…except my broomstick…"

Harry shook his damp and uncharacteristically lifeless black hair and carefully secured his Watch as he descended the metal spiral staircase, unsurprised to see Remus waiting for him at the bottom. Godfather and godson shook hands and Harry could tell that Remus hadn't slept yet. Both Harry and Ron had on jeans and Puddlemere United t-shirts.

"Oliver Wood sent those to us," George had explained when he dug them out of a dusty drawer.

"You can keep them," said Fred, "Wood loves to brag that he plays professional Quiddich. He got promoted last weekend, their starting keeper had a bit of an accident involving all three goalposts."

Remus reached in between Ron (who sat with his arms awkwardly crossed to hide the thought scars) and Hermione who were seated on top of the shop's front desk. He plucked out another newspaper and handed it to Harry. "Congratulations, you've managed to get killed and resurrected within three hours," Remus joked with a tired smile. The number "9¾" was on the shoulder of the usual _Daily Prophet_ heading followed by a paragraph-long apology to its readers, asking forgiveness for that morning's multiple misprints.

"Fudge ordered an immediate re-edition after the issue caused quite a panic," Hermione sighed from her perch behind Harry. She had changed into a bright orange Cannon's t-shirt, much to Ron's amusement. Harry barely concealed a snort. _If only they knew what it would really mean if I was dead…_Harry pushed thoughts of the prophecy out of his mind, bypassed thoughts of Sirius that were stimulated by just about anything, and instead focused on the new, slightly bored-sounding headline: _Harry Potter still Alive. Burrow Burned but Weasleys Survived. Hogwarts Students Allowed to Use Magic. _

"Really?" Harry looked to Hermione who was eyeing his hair, "We can use magic outside of school now?"

"Fifth years and up, so we're not out of practice in case there's an emergency," Hermione shrugged, "Apparently the full details will be listed in the Ministry's self-defense pamphlet and that should be coming out this month."

Just then Molly entered from what was apparently the twin's store room in the corner opposite the door. Fred and George followed after, but Harry turned back to the newspaper at the sight of the fourth person.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley," Albus Dumbledore smiled kindly at Ron, "I trust you are as good as new?"

"I keep telling people I'm hungry."

"Back to abnormal," Fred quipped, hopping up onto the desk beside his younger brother. George and Ginny joined him.

Harry noticed that Fred and George had WWW closed for the day, and every once in awhile someone outside pressed their nose longingly against the window. The glass front door had been jinxed to constantly advertise and whenever anyone came within five feet of the shop it shouted in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Lee Jordan, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes presents Voodoo Pens—write on your friend's forehead! Stock up on sun block that makes your skin camouflaged! Lollypops that change flavors with each lick (no ear wax!)."

"And good morning to you, Miss Granger, Harry." Harry glanced up and allotted Dumbledore a slight smile. A knot had twisted up in Harry's stomach, worse than any he'd experienced before a Quiddich match. There was a weighty silence for a moment before Remus asked if they'd come to a decision. "Oh yes," Dumbledore motioned towards the twins, his twinkling eyes emphasized by the sunlight illuminating Diagon Alley. "Fred and George have quite generously agreed to allow us to use the basement of their residence for the Order's headquarters." Dumbledore pointed to a trap door in the floor behind the desk. He winked at Molly who snorted after his next statement, "As long as they are made official Order of the Phoenix members, of course."

"We want badges." George nodded his agreement with Fred.

Dumbledore continued, regarding Lupin as he spoke, "We'll install another fireplace in the Basement. I intend for us only to come, go and meet down there. It would be less awkward for the customers if they don't see Mr. Moody limp up from the floor."

"Why do you need a new headquarters?" asked Ginny, not that anyone was complaining about a change of address. "Why are you leaving Grimmauld place?"

"We're not safe there anymore," Remus quietly began. "Now that Bellatrix Lestrange is aware of—who was in the Order—"

"But she couldn't find you," Hermione pointed out.

"That's true," confirmed Remus, "But she is Sir—was his cousin. She won't have a memory of where his house is because of the Fidelius, but she might remember the general vicinity. And you've seen what those Flames can do."

"What about Buckbeak?" Hermione straightened, looking worriedly at Dumbledore. "We can't leave him there."

"Maybe he'll eat Kreacher," George whispered to Fred from behind Ginny's back.

"Fudge has more important things to worry about and with Lucius in prison, couldn't we just give Buckbeak back to Hagrid?"

Dumbledore sighed as if he had more important things to worry about as well. But still he smiled his gentle smile, "You can feel free to retrieve him yourself, Miss Granger."

"Yeah, we could do that," Ron exclaimed. But then his face fell a bit when he glanced sidelong at Harry.

"You'll have the time," Remus leaned against a shelf of Portable Quiddich Pitches. "The Weasley's are going to live here so Harry will stay for the summer as well." Remus suddenly straightened, his eyes wide, "I mean, if that's ok with you, Harry. If that's what you want but if not I won't—"

Harry waved away his godfather's apology. "Yes, I want to stay here, I have nowhere else to go." Harry shot a convicting look at Dumbledore, but the headmaster happened to be staring at his feet.

Just then Pig barreled into the room via the twins' fireplace. He flew dizzying figure eights around the ceiling, hooting in his scattered vibrato until everyone was paying him attention before dropping a letter from Bill into Molly's hand. He landed on Harry's shoulder and chirped in greeting, then in question. Harry stroked the owl's short feathers, "Sorry, Pig, Hedwig's gone." Pig gave a low, regretful hoot.

"The Fidelius won't make our store invisible, will it?"

"That would be rather bad for business."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the twins, "The shop won't be Unplottable, you blockheads, the Basement will just have the Fidelius."

"And you'll be cleaning it," Fred wagged his eyebrows at Ron and Harry, "You'll have to earn your stay somehow, little brothers." Harry considered another summer's worth of cleaning manageable. At least the joke shop would be amusing and he wouldn't be screamed at by rogue portraits.

George leaned towards Hermione, "You're welcome to help as well, this place could use a woman's touch."

Hermione shrugged, "Your mom and Ginny will be here." Ginny snickered and Ron glared at her. "I need to get home after we go shopping."

"You'll come back soon though, won't you?" Harry suddenly realized he really wanted to have Hermione around. She nodded.

"Well let's be off then." Mrs. Weasley started for the door. "Headmaster, Percy will be dropping by to give you an update."

Dumbledore nodded, "Cornelius hasn't sent any owls for advice for several months, I should think there's much to report." Dumbledore followed Molly to the door with his eyes, only stopping when she crossed in front of Harry. Pig rubbed his forehead against Harry's ear before flapping his way upstairs.

"Mind if I come with you, Harry?" Remus asked in a fading voice. He rubbed his eyes amidst a yawn before offering a hopeful smile. It was Harry's opinion that he needed some rest and Lupin, after some convincing, Disapparated.

"Mrs. Weasley, can I meet you in a few minutes?" Hermione and the Weasleys had just gone out the door, leaving Harry and Dumbledore alone.

"Of course Harry dear, we have to go to Gringotts anyway. We'll meet you at—"

"Flourish and Blotts!" came Hermione's voice from down the street. Molly mouthed "apparently!" and shut the glass door as she left.

Harry didn't turn around for several moments and when he did, the man before him seemed a completely different person. Dumbledore's normal poise had slumped, his eyes had sunk and for once he actually looked his age. The appearance of a frail elderly man did nothing to extinguish the rage boiling in Harry. Harry considered flat out telling Dumbledore about his broken trust and lack of respect, frustration and hurt, anger and bloody _resignation_ so-help-him, but Dumbledore shaded his eyes as if acknowledging a migraine, and had the decency to begin at a regretful whisper.

"Your new godfather informed me of everything that happened last night, everyone you met and Harry, I am so very, very sorry…"

Harry's fists clenched. He was sick of apologies, sick of not being informed for his "own good," sick of being lied to. He told Dumbledore as much and Hogwarts' headmaster simply nodded after each accusation and made no attempt to defend himself, which annoyed Harry even more. After Harry finally ran out of breath, Dumbledore lowered himself into a chair, flicking his wand to freeze the prank charms that would cause it to start tap-dancing.

"Harry…I was very fond of your mother. While she was a student I met her family, and when she came to me as an Order of the Phoenix member requesting that I help her protect them, I respected her wishes." Harry hadn't moved from his rigid stance near the door. Dumbledore slumped deeper into his seat, looking less like the powerful, dignified leader he was and more like a wilted flower. "It was my decision to continue to honor her wishes in death. This began with erasing her family's knowledge of herself, you, your father, the entire wizarding world, and will include us not inviting your cousin to Hogwarts."

"Mark has magical abilities?"

"He has the wizard gene, yes. He'll most likely experience a few unexplainable accidents, but will wave them off only as such. Harry, a wizard who doesn't recognize his powers will never have a desire to acknowledge, let alone develop them. Some are even fully aware of who they are, but choose to live as a Muggle." Dumbledore glanced at where Remus had been standing. "The Evans' are your family, Harry, and they could be in danger not if they knew their own identity, but if our enemies knew them…I don't want to break your mother's last wish."

But Harry continued to glare at Dumbledore, viciously, loathsomely, his knuckles paler than Nearly Headless Nick. When Harry finally spoke, it was at a hissed whisper, his voice unrestrained by respect or awe or forgiveness. "You're brilliant. Really. Every time you don't tell me something it's exactly what I need to know. Is there anything else, _sir_, that you should tell me?"

Suddenly a body tumbled out of the fireplace. A very exhausted looking Percy Weasley got to his feet, brushing soot out of his red hair. Dumbledore was quite enthusiastic to see him, and immediately struck up a conversation, obviously thrilled to be interrupted. He didn't regard Harry again until the glass WWW door slammed shut and shattered from the force. "Hey! You broke me!" it shouted at Harry who was half a block away before he muttered "_Reparo_" and pointed his hand over his shoulder.

His wand sat forgotten in his back pocket.

The pieces of glass calmly reversed themselves back into the shape of the door.


	6. Silencing Mrs Black

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus

**Author's Notes:** Just a warning that this story might not be updated again before HBP comes out (and I haven't even gotten them on the train yet!). I'm doing overtime at work joy CONSTANT VIGILANCE! or something. Isn't this the part where I say that my story won't be changed by the 6th book? That I already have my ideas outlined so if they do overlap, I'm honestly not copying? Shouldn't you be rereading OotP (if not the whole series) instead of this:)

No skimming:)

PLEASE review.

_Chapter 5:_

**Silencing Mrs. Black**

"You've got a lot to learn, Hermione." –Sirius (5, 370)

"…this boy has as much chance of becoming an Auror as Dumbledore has of ever returning to this school." –Umbridge to McGonagall, about Harry (5, 665)

On the morning of half a week later, Harry Potter lay burrowed in a hammock magicked to the ceiling of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' Basement.

The rest of the Order's hammocks were empty, all dozens of them scattered throughout the room at haphazard angles. Harry had been staring at the ceiling for an hour, watching a sun set in the middle of a small square doing figure eights above his head. He's aimed his wand at the window but it darted away like a bug avoiding a flyswatter. Harry had only just gone to bed at sun-up, having stayed with Remus during a full moon's night, safely in the Shrieking Shack with his godfather full of Wolfsbane. For a moment Harry closed his eyes and set his wand on his stomach.

_"…no, Remus—I'm not going anywhere near _Snape_. You _know_ it's his fault that—that—that he stopped teaching me and, and then—"_

_"Harry," Remus spoke from the corner of the room, the very room where Harry had met his first godfather. Remus was half undressed and lying with his back to Harry in the corner. "Harry you must try to learn Occulmency again. And Snape is the only one who can—" he drew in a shaky breath and quivered against the moonlight, "the only one who can teach you. Remind me, Harry, to tell you a story about Snape this summer…something your…your mother would want you to know…" _

_Harry leaned against the casualty of a piano_. _He shook his head though Remus couldn't see him. When the werewolf came it did so unhurriedly, the transformation in slow motion compared to the first time Harry had witnessed it. Remus lay limp and helpless, allowing the evil to envelope him and shutting out his mind rather than fighting against it physically. "Padfoot..." Remus muttered incoherently. He stretched his legs already sprouting thick hair between the fibers of the pants. His back arched in pain. "Padfoot…" _

_Harry turned away, his elbows on the piano, his face in his hands. The moonlight seemed to glow brighter as Moony emerged from a last subconscious word of Remus': "S-Sirius…" _

Harry didn't open his eyes but raised his wand. The hammock rocked when he swish-and-flicked: "_Accio_ Extendable Ear. _Wingardium Leviosa_!" The twins' invention rose up the narrow metal stairs to the crack in the trap door leading to the body of the shop.

Harry opened his eyes. He'd heard his name.

"...reported in right after Harry came back from Shack, left Remus at Hogwarts I'd wager," one of the twins was saying. "Snape said something about new spells and compiling a list of how to deflect them. What were all those books Hermione got? _How Merlin Invented New Spells, Memory Charms: All or Nothing?; The Wizard Renaissance: Spellology; How to Forget This Book After You've Read It, _some mischief about different kinds of wizard prisons?...Ron…Percy's coming for lunch…you'll come to the Cauldron, ri—

"No Harry and I are…are cleaning the fireplace—"

"Ron I know he's been a git but you haven't even talked to him yet—" Ron must have glared his brother into silence.

"What's that, Ginny?"

"This? Oh, Dean made it, he's quite the artist you know. Oh and Oz came back with a note from Hagrid…he left. Something about taking a thing called "Grawpy" back…back where?" Harry heard Ron cough into his sleeve as Ginny sighed. Oz was Harry's new half-owl, half-eagle ("Who got away with _that_ cross-breeding?" Arthur had wondered) pet who was thinner and longer and sat much straighter than Pig or even Hedwig ever did. His beak and claws were longer and feathers not fluffy but tended to stick out at 90 degree angles from his body.

"Maybe Harry knows…Ron? Are you ok?"

"Yeah…"

Twin number two spoke up, his voice distanced: "Ron what is it?"

"It's Harry…I'm just, I'm just worried…I don't think he's telling us everything…Hermione swears she can smell it…"

Silence, then: "Do we need to get our Beaters' bats out again?"

Harry retracted the Extendable Ear, rolled out of the hammock and made sure to make a lot of noise as he sauntered up the stairs, past the gigantic grandfather clock with over 50 different colored hands, one for each member of the Order of the Phoenix. Normally they took the fireplace, going up and down through the floo network from the Basement to the shop. Of course Fred and George still preferred to Apparate maniacally the ten foot distance. Harry had often thought that the twins would never grow up…how very comforting. The shop was cold for June and Harry wished his Weasley sweaters hadn't been incinerated. However Ron and Ginny, when out of earshot of their mother, concluded that they were nearly thankful the Burrow burned down: no more hand-me-down anything!

Ron actually was wearing a sweater, the sleeves pulled all the way down past his thumbs to hide the thought scars. He was pale but looked strong though he avoided Harry's gaze when he emerged from under the front desk. "Here Harry," Ginny handed him a pile of parchment Oz had managed to hoist all the way home. The way Ginny said his name made Harry's heart tap-dance for a moment before he recovered and opened the first envelope. The owl-eagle landed on Harry's shoulder, his narrow face squinting in the morning sunlight, his thin black feathers flicking out madly not unlike Harry's hair. Harry reached up and fruitlessly patted his untidy black hair down. Immediately the tufts of hair flipped back up into place. At the same moment the owl ran its beak across its right wing. Immediately his feathers snapped back up. The twins blinked at the mirror-like image.

"Career Advice…" Harry skimmed the reminder from McGonagall. "We have our appointments this weekend…And Oz stopped at Hermione's house as well." Oz hooted very softly into Harry's ear. He didn't like to draw attention to himself.

While staying out of public sight and cleaning the Order's new headquarters, Harry and Ron got a letter from Hermione every morning, and sent Oz back every night. Sometimes Oz would come with a letter for Ron and Harry plus a sealed note just for Ron, who would write a personal letter back to Hermione during their lunch break. For the life of him Harry couldn't remember who sent the first private note and neither could Ginny. Sometimes they would send Hermione a Howler just for their own amusement (Fred and George had their own line: Haunting Howlers that don't self-destruct but follow the receiver around, repeating the message for at least a day). In turn, Hermione would not send Oz back (which instantly worried Ron and Harry), she'd threaten to not visit them, or the Howler would be returned in a Binding Spell with cat-Kneazle teeth marks.

"Hermione got a _job_?" Ron repeated what Harry had just read from Hermione's morning letter. The four boys plus Ginny had descended into the Basement for breakfast before opening the shop. "Why? She doesn't need money, does she? Her parents are bloody dentists!"

"It doesn't say why, just to keep busy," Ginny read, getting up from between the twins to look over Harry's shoulder. She had on a red bandanna that would've matched her hair if not for the dirt covering it. "Well she's in her element at least. She's working at some Muggle library."

Fred and George's Basement had apparently been unopened let alone cleaned since before they were born. The first time Harry went through the door under the front desk he was only halfway down the spiral staircase before he was covered in so much dust that his hair was salted gray. When Harry, Ron and Ginny illuminated the Basement, they found not one, but four boggarts practically waiting for them. Harry found himself not looking at the oversized Dementor with giant teeth in his its soul-sucking mouth or at Ginny recoiling from Tom Riddle reaching for her neck with bloody hands, but at what was apparently Ron's new greatest fear. The fourth boggart hovered over Ron's head as a Dark Mark while Harry watched himself kissing Hermione.

"_Riddikulus_!" Fred descended the stairs in two jumps. To Harry's horror the Dark Mark caught sight of him and flipped into Molly lying pierced like Ron would've been from the spell the night the Burrow burned. Fred froze.

"_Riddikulus_!" George aimed at Riddle who grinned back before transforming into the twins as ghosts, smile-less and forlorn. "_RIDDIKULUS_!" shouted George and with each wave of his wand every boggart shriveled up and disappeared.

"Blimey…" Ron gasped.

The Order's new headquarters was slightly more optimistic than Number 12 Grimmauld Place, but only gave them a tenth of the room which stimulated talk of bringing in wizard tents. Mr. Weasley had constructed a fireplace and Mrs. Weasley had attempted to brighten up the place by copying the Ministry and putting up magical windows for sunlight and morale. But she just couldn't get the "windows" to stay put. They tended to shimmy across the walls, floor and ceiling. One even sneaked upstairs and planted itself on the Twin's front door. They never even held still long enough for a Permanent Sticking charm to be aimed. Each window never seemed to have the same weather either.

"This is bizarre," Harry said as he pocketed Hermione's letter and watched the sun rise in a window below his feet.

"Yet amusing," Ron pointed at the fireplace where a monsoon sat on the mantle above the flames. Ginny came down with a thick tablecloth which she hung over a huge oak library table in the center of the room while Ron and Harry wiped off the chairs to go around it. The Basement was lined with shelves on every wall which reminded Harry of the Department of Mysteries, while the hammocks hung form the ceiling so that Order members could spend the night. After laying the tablecloth, Ginny picked up a broomstick but didn't sweep (or fly). Tonks, whose apartment had been burnt down by the Flames just two days after the Burrow, was snoring in one of the hammocks. ("My father is a newscaster in the Muggle world…maybe I should live with him.") Ginny was kind enough to avoid the bandages on Tonks' legs and arms when she used the broom to poke the Metamagus. Tonks stuttered her snoring rhythm, her hair changed to orange, but she didn't wake up. Ginny had pointed out to Harry that George tended to blush around Tonks and Tonks tended to change morph her hair into a ginger shade. Bill and Charlie had stopped by the day before, Fleur with them. Both of the oldest Weasley siblings had decided to move back to Britain to help the Order.

Charlie reported on a vampire uprising in Romania: "We took the dragons after them one night and Philip got bitten—you've met him, he came to get Norbert from the astronomy tower that night—and then suddenly they all disappeared, like they were called somewhere…"

In the center of the Basement, Kingsley Shacklebolt (another victim of the Death Eaters' mysterious green Flames) was putting dishes in the sink that Molly had installed to complete a tiny corner kitchen. He grunted hello to the three teens before disappearing through the Floo Network for the Ministry. He was still doing the Sirius charade. According to the _Daily Prophet_ a flying motorcycle had recently been seen flying over Sydney.

"Is Hermione coming this weekend? Are we leaving for Hogwarts from here?" Ron asked Harry who was trying to lasso a rogue window.

"Yeah." Harry knew what was coming next.

"Do you, uh," Ron began, scratching his head so he wouldn't have to look at Harry. "Do you want to go…there…before then? Because if not, Hermione and I can handle—"

"No, I'll go."

Ron nodded, and didn't bring the subject up again. Harry wondered if Remus was all right though part of him wasn't in the mood to have his godfather sit down and "discuss his feelings" about going back to Grimmauld Place. And if he opened up to Remus as a godfather…that would mean that Sirius was really d—.

"Do you have your Watches?" Mrs. Weasley's voice had interrupted Harry's thoughts when Harry and Ron set out on Saturday morning. Diagon Ally was eerily empty, especially for the weekend. The Leaky Cauldron was darker and dirtier than usual, and the majority of the customers had their faces covered in dark cloaks (yet another side effect of the second wizarding war).

Hermione was waiting for them and during breakfast reached into her knapsack and brought out the _Daily Prophet_, _The Quibbler_, and a thick book with a deep black color. "Oh you should read this article it sounds like Luna herself wrote it—something about a line of wizards descending from the Britain crown. They interviewed this kid who claims to be some half-blood _prince_ or some rubbish like that. But look at his picture, isn't he that Slytherin who could see the thestrals last year, remember Harry? He's got the nose for it I guess, though he's too skinny. And he's the only Slytherin who isn't a pureblood which I suppose is odd but that doesn't mean he's important! Honestly." Ron grinned. "Look! Victor wrote to me! Bulgaria's in the Cup again this year you know. He says his cousin, Catalina, is going to teach at Hogwarts next term so she must be the new Defense professor. She taught at Durmstrang but didn't like it. He sent me his textbooks from school," she explained. Harry slapped Ron on the back when he started choking on his food. "I thought they might be useful for, well, for you, Harry. I found some spells that we haven't touched in class and thought you should learn them—"

"No." It was Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Ron, just because you're _jealous_ of Victor—"

"Hermione this has nothing to do with _Vicky_!" Ron leaned across the table and looked her directly in the eyes. "What's the name of that book?"

"Why does that matter—"

"It _matters_ because you want Harry to use _Dark_ Arts!" Cloaked heads turned away from their biscuits and eggs. Harry slid the black book from under Hermione's elbows and sure enough, in silver lettering: _Beginner's Guide to Unforgivables and Other Misunderstood Magic_.

"Well maybe we need to be prepared to defend ourselves in every way," Hermione softly offered.

"By using illegal magic? By stooping to their level? You want to get chucked into Azkaban?" Ron was quite beside himself.

Harry heard one of the customers behind them start whispering, "They say You-Know-Who possessed him just like that Weasley girl, killed his godfather, I don't know who that was…"

Hermione suddenly rose to Ron's attack, her chair creaking as it was pushed back, "Well maybe this isn't about morals anymore, Ron, it's about keeping our _best friend ALIVE_! He already used the _Cracticus_!"

Ron went silent and rigid. Harry's chin dropped. He swallowed. "And I meant it, it worked, I hurt Lestrange and…I'm not sure if I regret it..."

"Ron, how are we supposed to kill Voldemort without using this kind of magic? It's logical. This is war."

"It's wrong, Hermione, period. There are other ways, we just have to find them."

They both twisted to see Harry's reaction. Harry sighed, "Ron's right, Hermione." He leaned elbows onto the round wooden table and massaged his eyes, "I'm not sure I necessarily agree, but he is right. I had other options than to use that…on the other hand, after last year I'm ready to do everything Hermione says…"

"But even some Light curses cause pain. And how are we supposed to kill Voldemort without using _Avada Kedavra_?"

Every customer within earshot all but ducked under their tables at those words.

"However," Harry continued, hardly in the mood to endure his best friends' bickering, "Those books will be helpful. We can at least study them to learn what the curses are, who uses them, how to counteract them."

"Most of these curses have never been mentioned in Defense class," said Hermione as she flipped through the rusted pages.

"Yet the Durmstrang students are being taught to _use_ them," Ron muttered.

"The Governors must censor what we're taught about Dark Magic so there's a chance we could take these books to Catalina, maybe she could present our idea to the Board."

"Dumbledore's Army." Hermione and Ron turned to Harry. For a moment Harry considered proposing that they change the name, but the bitterness was overridden by his idea. "We can study it there. But you be in charge, ok Hermione?" Harry wasn't quite sure where the words were coming from.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. "Actually Harry," Hermione ventured after Harry stopped rubbing his eyes, "Hopefully we won't even need to use it this term, if Catalina is a competent professor that is. I'm putting a lot of effort into S.P.E.W., you know—"

"What?" Ron exclaimed, "After all that with _Kreacher_ you're still sympathetic—"

"Just because one—"

"Bloody Hell, Hermione, it's like you're trying to build some house elf _army_ for Merlin's sake!"

Harry scooted his bowl of porridge an arm's length away and placed his forehead on the table until Ron and Hermione stopped shouting.

The neighborhood around Number 12 was quite cheery looking, ironic when compared to the Order's ex-headquarters. It was mid-morning, the sunshine was real (and not on the floor), they'd just survived yet another hilarious trip on the Knight Bus, but Harry Potter felt like he was in a graveyard. The three Gryffindor's bravery was tested as they ventured into the dark lobby of the Black family's house. Everything looked the same, down to the elf snouts and troll foot umbrella stand. But the house was darker and dustier and more foreboding than before, Shrieking Shack-like, and Harry folded his arms against the coldness. The threesome went past the kitchen where Moody had shown Harry the picture of the original Order members. Harry peeked into the bedroom he'd slept in, past the drawing room where he'd seen Mrs. Weasley weep over Ron's body…They tiptoed past the curtains lining the stairs, careful not to wake up _her_ portrait.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione whispered with false enthusiasm as she tugged Harry away from the drawing room, "Buckbeak's up in Mrs. Black's room."

The moment they opened the door, the hippogriff shaped shadow in the corner gave a great roar that shut it right back in their faces. Ron gave a tremendous gulp, "Perhaps we should find a harp?"

Harry peeked through. The shadow appeared to be panting, trembling. "He's scared."

"Harry, wait," Hermione grabbed Harry's sleeve as he began to slip through the door.

"He knows me. I'm just going to calm him down." _Maybe I'll be able to do _something_ right_…Ron and Hermione's wide eyes were the last thing Harry saw as he shut out the light with the door and tiptoed into the dark room. "_Lumos_."

Buckbeak was wheezing and didn't seem to have the strength to even growl. The floor was covered in molted feathers and all four of his legs were chained down. As Harry approached he could see how skinny Buckbeak was, though there were remains of food scattered around him. Kreacher, apparently, had obeyed Sirius' orders to feed Buckbeak, but the elf seemed to have done it as little as possible, and with rotten food. Harry raised his wand over his head like a spotlight and slowly bowed, all the time remaining contact with Buckbeaks' eyes. The hippogriff snorted and shook his wings, flinging feathers everywhere until Harry felt like he was in a snow globe.

Harry's back was starting to hurt before Buckbeak finally nodded his beak up and down in recognition. At that he gave a tortured squawk and lowered his face back to the floor. Cautiously, Harry wanded the chains off and got Buckbeak to the doorway where Ron and Hermione were allowed to pull the hippogriff onto the landing. Descending the stairs was awkward. Buckbeak limped along, his wings lying numb at his side. They were nearly to the front door when Ron suddenly tripped on the last stair and practically fell on top of Buckbeak, causing the hippogriff to let loose a massive honk of pain. Hermione immediately put her hands over her ears as velvet, moth-eaten curtains flapped open.

What began as an up-surging howl became a banshee shriek when the curtains blasted open and the portrait of Sirius' mum caught sight of who had disturbed her. Her black cap fell from her head and the drool on her lips became flying spittle.

"_Why you miniature mutants! Back to infest the house of my noble ancestors how dare you bring your traitor and Mudblood presences across my door! Muggles! And blood traitors! And enemies of my Lord begone with your bloody bird and your scattergroit and…YOU!"_ Mrs. Black glared at Harry. A nasty grin blossomed across her wrinkled face. _"Godson of the traitor of my line! How glad I was when that treacherous son of mine didn't return to plague my sanctuary! And thanks to you! You little bastard filth of a wizard runt have purged this world of my son's vileness!"_ Mrs. Black cackled hideously. _"That disgrace is_ _DEAD and it's _your_ fault you revolting orphan, mangy criminal, offensive little weakling of a wizard, oh **thank Merlin** for you—"_

An astounding look of calmness overlay Harry as Sirius' mum continued her rant. Ron and Hermione and even Buckbeak had gone rigid and were staring at him. Slowly, Harry unsheathed his wand and calmly approached the portrait. Hermione began to remind him that there was a Permanent Sticking Charm on the canvas and that she couldn't be stunned, Ron began to remind Harry that she was just a painted voice and that nothing she was saying was true but Harry ignored them both.

"_Rascal! Coward! Fiend! Cancer! I cannot wait for the Dark Lord to _smite_ you and your friends—"_

Harry's calmness blew over like the eye of a hurricane and suddenly Hermione was covering her ears from Harry's yells rather than Mrs. Black's. An inhuman rage seemed to visibly consume Harry as he shot spell after spell at the portrait with such ferocity that Ron backed away from the stairs and Hermione scurried over to be held against his chest. Buckbeak fell to the floor and folded his wings over his eyes against the rainbow of crackling spells. But it wasn't working, each spell merely caused Mrs. Black to howl all the louder with laughter and taunting. Harry screamed and punched the painting with all his might.

"Harry _stop it_!" Ron yelled.

Harry leaned against the banister for a moment—and then something instinctual surged within him.

And he tossed his wand aside and stared at his right hand where his fingers were pulsing. The muscle below each middle joint throbbed with a power Harry couldn't focus on…so he aimed it. The cold numbness that had filled the gap Sirius had left now fueled him.

Not even the portrait's charms could endure Harry's powerful barrage that he unleashed with such a vengeance that when all that remained of the portrait was splinters, he was still shooting spell after spell until there was a hole in the wall. He felt each spell flow from his fingers like sweat. Mrs. Black had raised her hands against the magic, her screeches turned to sobs, her eyes the last to be incinerated. His energy drained, Harry at last leaned against the stair railing, trembling and gasping.

"Harry—" gasped Hermione. She threw her head back and blinked at the ceiling. "You—you just…did you just—"

"Oh man," he finished for her. Ron slowly bent down and picked up Harry's wand. "You can do Wandless Magic?"

Harry looked down at his red hand. It looked like he'd just touched a woodstove.

From several floors above the scene, Kreacher the disgruntled house elf muttered to himself about how alone he was going to feel without a master or a mistress in the house or a hippogriff to torture. As the wizards left in a silent procession, Kreacher crept down the stairs to the kitchen, mumbling out loud, "Still can't leave even if I wanted to yes, blood traitor brats as blind as my mistress but Kreacher knows about my master, Kreacher is still bound even though master has not come home yet, he might, he might still…"

Ron attempted to lighten the mood when he leaned past Hermione and whacked Harry on the shoulder with his wand. "Déjà vu?" he yelled over the wind.

Harry twisted his head and smiled a bit, his hair blown back and his scar, for once, in plain sight. Hermione squeaked as they dove into a cloud and the moisture blotted Harry's cheeks in teardrops. The combination of Buckbeak's squawk and a sudden hoot from the Hogwarts Express below them woke Harry up and he reached around and patted Hermione on the arm to get her to ease her grip. They were soaring towards Hogwarts for their Career Advice appointments with the rest of the soon to be 6th years below them, the Disillusionment Charm hopefully fooling all eyes turned skyward. Ron whispered something in Hermione's ear from Buckbeak's back and she giggled half-heartedly. One of her hands disappeared from Harry's waist and he didn't have to wonder who it went to. Harry closed his eyes and imagined he was on his Firebolt (may it rest in peace).

Hogwarts felt a bit hollow. Harry had never heard his voice echo so much in the Great Hall though there were so few of them there. Seamus was just telling Harry how excited he was about the World Cup when Professor McGonagall came from the door behind the stage that lead into the room where Harry had become the fourth tri-wizard.

"Have a seat, Potter." McGonagall motioned to a chair by the fireplace and handed him a rather thick roll of parchment. She sat down across from him but didn't expect him to open it. "I'm supposed to lecture you about the future now, Mr. Potter." McGonagall began. "I'm supposed to advise you to think about it, about what you want to do when you leave this school, about what and who you want to be…" She adjusted her olive green robes and a slight smile graced her thin lips. "I meant it when I told Umbridge that I'll see to it personally that you become an Auror but I doubt that would take much effort on my part. What I will see to is that you won't have to take Potions to be one." Harry looked up at her and found his old professor staring at the fire, her smile still hanging in the air between them though it was gone from her face.

"What I want to advise you to worry about in the next two years…Harry…is simply living through them. And do set that hippogriff loose in the forest, would you? I'm sure it would prefer that to Professor Grubbly-Plank's care." They sat in silence until that silence swallowed the smiles. "Do tell Molly that I won't make it for her meatballs tonight," McGonagall called as Harry left. He heard her sigh as the door shut itself.

"I can't believe I forgot that we don't have to take Potions anymore!" Ron was celebrating by passing Hermione and Harry butterbeers across the Basement's library table a half hour later.

"I'm still taking it," Hermione replied glumly. She took quite a swig of her drink. "Ron I thought you were thinking about being an Auror."

"Well it turns out that I'd rather worry about that later, and not deal with Snape now."

Just then Dean Thomas and Ginny tumbled out of the fire, head first, rolled up against the table (Harry immediately sat up straighter) and simultaneously shouted "_Malfoy_ is here!"

"Shhh!" Hermione hissed and then disabled the Silencing Charms on the ceiling. She hissed again to keep Ron from growling.

"He's not here. We don't know where he is," one of the twins was saying. "And what exactly do _you_ want with him?"

"I just want to talk to him, insult him of course, but talk to him—and it's none of your business, Weasley, what I wish to talk to him about."

"Well you can be on your way then." Harry heard a distinctly George-tone in that voice, and pictured him folding his arms. The sound of footsteps had stopped and Harry wondered if everyone in WWW had stopped to stare at Malfoy.

"Just tell Potter that I'm looking for him."


	7. Godric's Graveyard

**The Man Who Lives**

By: PenPatronus

_Chapter 6:_

**Godric's Graveyard**

"_Let the pain stop_, thought Harry. _Let him kill us…End it, Dumbledore…Death is nothing compared to this…And I'll See Sirius again_…" –Harry (5, 816)

At some point during a morning of mid-July, Harry Potter dreamt about the Department of Mysteries again.

He knew this time, even during the dream, that it was not his own but injected into his mind. And this time he did reach the door, turn the knob, and found not a white orb or Sirius but Voldemort sitting on a throne and laughing at him.

"You're pathetic little Potter! I send you thoughts, possess you, tricked you into getting your friends hurt and your godfather murdered and still! Still you haven't bothered to learn how to block me! Your stubbornness and self-righteousness will be your death. You know the prophecy and now I can just access your mind and find it, get into your head and see where the Order's headquarters are, see what curses you don't know, and who you care about the most so that I have another target…Who's this? A ginger-haired girl, she looks like your mother—maybe she'll scream like that Mudblood bitch too—"

Harry was woken up by nine owls barreling out of the fireplace in a puff of smoke, screeching as if they'd been tossed into the Order's floo network unwillingly. In their momentum they were carried right into the closest ceiling-hammock which happened to be occupied by none other than Mad-Eye Moody, whose natural eye remained closed in sleep while the mechanical one glared at the birds disentangling themselves from blankets and limbs. Finally they spotted Harry who'd flipped gracefully out of his bed and dashed up the stairs into the unopened Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Giving chase, the owls burst into the shop and began shrieking at every wizard in sight, dumping their envelopes into a pile in front of the desk before pecking at George, who'd emerged from his bedroom still in pajamas, to open the front door.

Hermione came through the door in her traveling cloak just before George shut it, and gave a high-pitched shriek at the sight of the envelopes as if she'd just been hexed. Molly's head appeared from the trap door Harry had just emerged from, Fred's from the store-room (pajama-clad as well) and with a bang from the upstairs bathroom door Ron slid across the hallway and grabbed onto the railing to stop himself from hurtling down the steps. There was a terror on his face, a wand in his hand and nothing more than a towel around his waist.

"HERMIONE ARE YOU OK?" Ron yelped, his eyes wide, shampoo dripping from his red hair.

Harry let out a cackle at Hermione's face as she stared at Ron. Her head was tilted as if staring at a slide in class, the envelopes with her name on them forgotten at her feet. Ginny popped up from behind Mrs. Weasley and looked up at her brother on the balcony, "Ron, for goodness' sake put some clothes on, Hermione's fine!" Fred and George whistled as Ron turned scarlet, clenched his towel tighter and retreated back to his shower.

"Here, Hermione dear," Mrs. Weasley plucked a large envelope out of the bottom of the pile. Ginny had just tugged a sparkling new Prefect badge out of her own. Immediately she stuffed it into her pocket, flushing a bit and grinning back at Harry who mouthed his congratulations while Molly was still distracted with Hermione.

"The O.W.L.s!" Hermione was ripping the seal open before Mrs. Weasley had even released the envelope. Hermione disappeared behind the paper while Fred and George took a few steps away from the crowd, just in case Hermione hadn't broken a school record.

"Oh good, McGonagall sent me another badge." Dried off and dressed, Ron held a sparkling new silver Prefect insignia that fell out of the first packet he opened, "Good thing the Burrow burned down, I lost mine at the train station, not in the fire." Harry actually smiled at that. "Mum!" Ron rolled his eyes when he saw that the seal of his O.W.L. envelope had already been broken. Harry slit his with a flick of his wand and half-heartedly unfolded the letter as Ginny turned to her brothers and flashed the badge, a vertical forefinger resting mischievously on her lips.

Hermione had gone pale and her fingers were shaking as her eyes danced across her results, rereading them again and again. Ron shook his head when Harry began to ask her how she'd done. The second envelope for both boys was the usual Welcome-back-to-Hogwarts-here's-what-you-need-to-spend-money-on letter. Ron's third was written by Dumbledore to all of the school Prefects, outlining additional tasks for the upcoming year. "Something about inter-house relations and emergency procedures if the war happens to migrate to our (_Unplottable_) doorstep," Ron snorted after briefly scanning the letter, balling it up and then tossing it over his shoulder. The paper bounced off of Hermione's head but she didn't notice. Harry was staring at the letter he'd just opened. "Whatcha got there, mate?"

Harry blinked then sighed heavily, "I've been named captain of the Gryffindor Quiddich team."

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, not noticing his best friend's tentativeness. "You're not _nearly_ as mental as Wood or Johnson!"

Harry attempted to swallow that as a compliment. "Ginny!" he called without looking up.

"Yeah?" came her reply from somewhere behind him.

"You're going to be a Chaser this year."

"Aye aye, captain."

"HA!" Hermione had finally surfaced from her letter. She swept the hair out of her face with her elbow and smoothed the paper out on the floor. She feigned surprise to see that everyone was staring at her, and promptly began rehearsing her scores, having already memorized them.

"Gee, Harry," Ron winked as Hermione continued to ramble on to no one in particular, "I got half as much as Hermione but twice as much as my twin brothers, yet I'm in the mood to celebrate, you?"

Harry shrugged, "Did better than I thought I would."

It was a quarter of an hour before Hermione finally noticed that she was alone on the floor, her friends having gone to the Cauldron for breakfast and butterbeers.

A week later, the _Daily Prophet_, twice as thick as usual, landed (via Pigwidgeon) in Mrs. Weasley's morning oatmeal and, in a very Howler-like fashion, announced in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Rita Skeeter, "CORNELIUS FUDGE, MINISTER OF MAGIC, IS _DEAD_!"

"What?" Harry and Ginny both gasped.

"Since when do the newspapers talk?" Fred wondered out loud to George as if that was the most urgent issue at hand.

"Goodness gracious me," Molly muttered, "They've only jinxed the _Prophets_ to do that just once before, the morning after—" she suddenly sealed her mouth but Harry immediately knew she was referring to a certain Halloween. Molly shifted against the library table.

"Mum! What does it say?" Ron demanded.

Molly muttered under her breath as she speed-read the front page, only raising her voice every few sentences, "…found his body this morning…wand clutched in his hand…still pointed at his chest…Killing Curse…suicide…"

"Suicide?" Ginny gasped, slapping her fingers to her lips.

"That's, er, horrible," Harry managed.

Mr. Weasley suddenly descended from the shop, "Actually, to be honest, it really isn't."

"Arthur!"

"Come now, Molly, you know as well as I that Fudge was handicapping everything imaginable. We're bound to be better off. Dumbledore might finally be talked into being Minister, in these times…" Arthur sighed, "I'm going to hurry off to the Ministry, I expect it's quite chaotic." He Apparated away before Molly could remind him shut the trap door.

Suddenly Harry noticed the date on the newspaper, July 24th. _In a week I'll have my first birthday without the Dursleys…_

But with all the commotion about the Minister, no one even mentioned Harry's birthday.

On the morning of July 31st, clothed in jeans and a t-shirt and with Oz perched on his shoulder, Harry opened the trapdoor to find Remus Lupin at the bottom of the spiral staircase with a bouquet of lilies and a sledgehammer.

At the confused yet amused expression on Harry's face, Lupin looked from the flowers to the hammer, and offered a shrug. "Up for a detour before the Twins put you to work, Harry?"

Harry sighed. Even his godfather had forgotten it was his birthday. Brilliant. "Is Dumbledore aware of this?"

"What he doesn't know won't make him deploy a herd of Aurors." Remus winked, looking distinctly Sirius-like. Harry found a grin for his godfather and reluctantly left Oz behind.

After a half hour's worth of quiet driving time, Remus took Harry into the suburbs of wizard London where he pulled into a cemetery at the bottom of a brown valley by the name of "Godric's Hollow Graveyard."

"You could probably guess, Harry," Lupin answered the unasked question after he parked the car and opened the rusty black gate, crunching layers of severed brown leaves that dusted the decaying ground. "Godric Gryffindor is buried here." Remus cocked his head in the direction of an ancient memorial overshadowing the burial ground.

The thick marble looked like it had only been erected a year ago, magical preservation charms seemed to protect all of the gravestones from the elements and natural decay. Their perfection disturbed Harry, but he took a moment to thank the stone for helping him kill a basilisk. When he turned around Harry spotted his godfather in the opposite corner of the graveyard, sledgehammer over one shoulder and flowers cradled in his left arm, his back to Harry and head bowed. Wondering if he was intruding on something private, Harry kept his distance. It was a quarter of an hour before Remus waved him over.

Remus lowered and leaned against the sledgehammer. He'd already placed the lilies on the wide grave he'd been staring at. All around the perimeter of the cemetery, weeping willows lay over the black fence and snaked around the stones. Harry approached and stood beside his godfather and read the inscription on the memorial:

**James and Lily Potter**

Followed by an inscription below:

_Parents of The Boy Who Lived_

_Beloved Friends and Martyrs_

_True Gryffindors in Life and Death_

Harry felt his kneecaps turn into Snitches—

but before he gave into them, he noticed two other tombstones to the left and right of his parents'. One was just a tiny, homemade memorial that Remus might've made himself that read "Sirius Black" and the other, just a foot away from James' name, which was also inscribed with "True Gryffindor in Life and Death" was—

"Peter Jameson Pettigrew."

Without even uttering "_Accio_" let alone unsheathing his wand, Harry's green eyes narrowed on Wormtail's name and the sledgehammer slid out from under Remus' bodyweight and was suddenly in both of Harry's hands. A dozen solid swings later, Wormtail's gravestone was reduced to bits the size of Harry's scar. Only then did Harry collapse in front of his loved ones' graves, and sobbed softly into his knees.

Later Harry looked up to find Remus' face scrunched with anxiousness, "Harry I'm sorry," he began in a husky voice, "I shouldn't have brought you here, I just thought…"

But when Harry rose to his feet, he was standing straighter than ever. And somehow, the dull texture of his green eyes had been jumpstarted. Harry tested himself, allowed his thoughts to drift back into the numbness, and realized it didn't exist in him anymore. He even made an attempt at getting mad at Remus, gave himself permission to lose his temper…but that had been unleashed as well. Harry sighed as he stared at Sirius' name, and for once the engulfing knot in his core didn't weigh him down. He surprised Lupin with a sudden grin: "Actually, Remus…this was just what I needed."

Remus nodded. Harry could tell he was gearing up for another question. "By the way…" there was a very extensive pause, "Since when can _you_ do _Wandless _Magic?"

The thought had just re-occurred to Harry that not even Remus had yet to mention his birthday when he and his Godfather opened the door to WWW and nearly had a double heart attack, and Remus had been expecting it!

"SURPRISE!"

_Everyone_ was there.

"Dad, the Quiddich World Cup is next week!" Ron was reminded as he watched Harry unwrap his brand-new Varoom! Broom 2005, a broomstick crafted specifically for Quiddich Seekers, from Remus, Hagrid and the Weasleys. "Can we get tickets this year?"

Arthur and Remus, who sat in folding chairs to the left and right of Ginny along the large group circled around the mountain of presents for Harry, exchanged significant looks. Moody huffed as if the idea was absurd, and Tonks promptly rolled her eyes. Harry smothered a laugh as Moody frowned at the young Auror (Moody's magical eye had caught Tonks mid-roll).

"Why I'd like to go!" Ron and Harry both did double takes when Hermione spoke up. "Not that I enjoy that barbaric sport, but Victor's playing." Harry had to wrench a fragile-looking wrapped present out of Ron's hands before he squished it with rage.

"Actually," Remus began, "It might not be safe for you, any of you to go…"

"The Ministry is hosting it again and we're pretty, uh, unorganized at this point," Arthur agreed. He'd only been away from the Ministry long enough to sleep. "We're going to have extra security of course, Aurors and Order members alike, but I think that Dumbledore would discourage it as well…"

"Which translates in we're bloody broke and Dumbledore's paranoid," Ron muttered to Harry.

Molly, who'd just come up from the Basement with an armful of cupcakes, saved the day. "Do you think Dumbledore would mind if we took the kids to Hogwarts? How about we get everyone together, the kids can play on the Pitch, we can have one of those out-cooks and listen to the game with that wireless we got from—"

"Can I invite Angelina?" Fred asked as Ron and Harry slapped high-fives over Harry's new trunk and robes.

Ron gracefully missed Harry's hand ("His head isn't a Quaffle, Ronnie," George teased) and knocked Harry's glasses to the wooden floor. Harry said a casual "_Reparo_" as he placed the glasses back on his nose, and everyone in the room saw that his wand had rolled under Percy's chair, at least 10 feet away from Harry's fingertips.

There was an odd combination of people a week later on the Hogwarts grounds. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was closed for the "holiday" and the Basement was empty as the majority of the Order members had security duties under Dumbledore's instructions. Tonks was quite miffed that she'd landed the job of making sure all of the Portkeys were authorized. "Kingsley won't admit that they all think I'm too clumsy to do anything important like overseeing the gambling rings, or ushering the mascots…"

Tonks, Mr. Weasley and Lupin, their jobs fulfilled, were at Hogwarts even before the Cup began: England verses Bulgaria. Dumbledore, who was not in the castle as far as Harry could tell, had graciously offered the group access to the broom shed and Quiddich balls. Every so often though, Argus Filch, his quivering jowls causing a breeze, stuck his nose into the stadium and dramatically counted the brooms and balls, as if he were just waiting to throw them all in the dungeons for damaging school equipment.

Molly and Hermione were camped out around a couple picnic tables set up on the pitch as they listened to a wireless while Ron, Harry, Fred, George, Bill, Percy, Charlie, Ginny, Arthur, Remus, Tonks, Fleur Delacour, Angelina and Dean played their own match above. The sky was medicinal to Harry who broke in his Varoom! while the others chose teams. Every time Harry went into a dive he heard Mrs. Weasley gasp. Charlie soon joined him in the air, and Harry could already tell that he was about to have a run for his Galleons. Ron had made certain that Dean and Ginny weren't on the same team (Harry found himself keeping an eye on her during the match) while Bill and Fleur (neither of which were very talented on a broom) tended to get lost in their own conversation while the match went on around them. Fred and George split up to play beaters on both sides, Remus played opposite Bill as a second beater for Charlie's team (Remus looked surprisingly at home on a broomstick). Arthur got laughed at as he flew up to play Charlie's Keeper, and he "accidentally" let Ginny score a few too many times. Tonks and Angelina joined Dean as Chasers while Percy made a noble effort to help out Fleur and Ginny for Harry's team. Every other minute Ron would yell down at Hermione for an update, and cheered whenever she announced that England had scored ("Kick his bloody Bulgarian butt, Wood!") as if Oliver Wood, a last minute addition to the team, had anything to do with Bulgaria's Seeker.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted as Arthur blocked one of Percy's awkward shots and Charlie pulled a fantastic Wronski Feint that didn't fool Harry in the least, "What's the score now?"

Both pairs of teams (international and Weasley) had been tied for the past half-hour, but Hermione made no motion to confirm or deny that. Harry wasn't sure if the wireless suddenly had its volume cranked up or if one of the Seekers had been successful but the screaming coming from it was easily heard even from his angle on the other side of the Pitch.

"Mum? Mum, what's wrong?" Percy called. He'd stopped playing and was hovering in the middle of the pitch. Ginny launched the Quaffle and it sailed, forgotten, over Percy's head.

Mrs. Weasley and Hermione were on their feet and shaking, holding their palms anxiously over the wireless radio as if trying to warm up from a fire or hush a crying baby.

"Mum?" Percy went into an uncharacteristically elegant dive and landed at his mother's side. Everyone else on brooms froze, save Ron who dove after Percy and hurried to Hermione who, Harry could see from across the pitch, had begun to sway dizzily.

"_Dammit_!" Charlie hissed from behind Harry's shoulder. Everyone began to land, Harry last of all and when he did he witnessed Hermione collapsing. Ron threw aside his broom and lunged, catching Hermione by the shoulders before she smashed into the ground, his face pale and terrified. Only when Molly went limp had Harry finally flown close enough to hear what was coming out of the wireless: an operatic, unearthly banshee-like screech had replaced the Quiddich commentary and was getting louder with each moment as if more than one creature was emitting it. Harry felt his blood solidify. The roar was deeper but from what he had heard before, but even more piercing. He felt as if the very sound of it was strangling him. As he landed he knew, suddenly and undoubtedly, exactly what it was.

But before he extended his conclusion that the noise was indeed coming from the match, the thought occurred to Harry that the wireless itself might be cursed. Molly had borrowed it from Grimmauld Place and they had found the initials "R.A.B." engraved in calligraphy on the back. ("I wonder what Regulus' middle name was?" Hermione had asked absentmindedly. "Bet it was _Angel_," Ron had snickered.)

"Mandrake's cry!" yelled Remus. "COVER YOUR EARS!"

"No!" Ron was cradling a deathly still Hermione. And for a moment a memory of Hermione's voice at 12-years-old entered Harry's mind: _The cry of the mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it_. The shrieks seemed to pierce Harry's heart and he fell to his knees, his broom clattering hollowly to the ground. "NO!" Ron set Hermione on the ground and rolled on top of her, his arms wrapped around her head, his own ears left uncovered. Remus suddenly knelt in front of Harry as if his body could block the murderous noise. Only at the look in his godfather's eyes did Harry remember to cover his own ears.

On his left and right Charlie and Dean were still standing while Arthur had gathered Ginny into a hug so tight she'd all but disappeared. Bill mirrored Ron's position: Fleur's palms were clasped to her ears with Bill's fingers holding them securely there. Fleur was awake and fighting him but Bill wouldn't budge, his eyes drooping with each wave of the Mandrake voices. Harry twisted from his position to see Fred covering Angelina's ears and Angelina covering his, looking into his eyes with an intensity Harry had never seen her possess even during a Quiddich match. George, further behind his twin, was somehow managing to stay on his feet while covering Tonks' ears as she frantically searched through her robes. Finally, Tonks had fished out her wand. She stood on her tiptoes and aimed it past George's shoulder. Her spell flashed past Fred, Charlie, Harry and Ron to hit the wireless, only nicking it enough to topple it over. The noise stuttered but remained just as strong. George fell to his knees.

Harry was watching Ron, watching as his eyes stared desperately at Hermione's face, then finally clouded and blinked, glanced desperately for a moment at Harry before closing, and Ron slumped, unconscious if not worse, over Hermione's body. And the penetrating numbness that Harry had thought was gone, that he hadn't felt since going to the Grimmauld Place surfaced again in his heart. He glanced at Lupin who was looking the opposite way, then slowly, ceremoniously, purposefully lowered his hands to willingly greet the Mandrake cry and resulting darkness.

Harry felt rather than saw the spell that came from beside him. Lupin's blast tossed the shrieking radio into the air where it exploded into violent ashes.


	8. Victims

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus

**Author's Notes:** After reading HP:HBP, I'm killing Lavender (any objections?) and officially dedicating this story to Albus Dumbledore. Please review, and feel free to even if you've already done so for another chapter! The next update might not be for another month (school and all that) but look! I got them on the train! Reviews hurry the process along of course wink wink.

_Chapter 7:_

**Victims**

"Always the innocent are the first victims," (Ronan) said. "So is has been for ages past, so it is now." (1, 253)

"Harry? Harry, please."

Remus Lupin was leaning over him with the sternest of looks on his face, as if Harry had neglected his homework. He was pale, and angry for some reason.

"I'm alive?"

Remus wasn't even attempting a smile. "Yes. I think the Mandrake's cry will only kill if it's heard directly. We heard it through the radio so it only made you faint as if they're not fully grown." Harry heard an unfamiliar undercurrent in his godfather's voice as loud as he'd heard the Mandrakes. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose while sitting up as well.

"But the people in the Quiddich stadium…"

"If they heard it they're probably dead." Remus rose from his knees. "I think Voldemort was trying to kill everyone listening to the match, he just assumed that hearing that sound, would kill instantly no matter what." Dean and Ginny stood a dozen feet behind Remus, talking in low voices while Dean finished an impression of what Harry realized, icily, was himself.

He heard Ginny hissing, "Are you sure you saw him take his hands down, on purpose?"

Dean nodded and looked back to Harry but immediately dropped his gaze. Ginny, however, engaged full eye contact.

Dean looked confused. Ginny looked homicidally furious.

"Hop up." Remus pulled him to his feet. "Here." He pushed a piece of wizard chocolate on him and glared at Harry until he ate it. Then he pivoted and retreated to Molly's side where Arthur was trying to revive her.

Remus hadn't seen Harry lower his hands, but Dean obviously had.

"'Villiam!" Harry saw Charlie, his chin quivering suspiciously, with his older brother's head in his lap while Fleur sobbed against Bill's chest. George lay on his side with his back to Harry, Fred biting his lip and sitting on his haunches at his brother's side, the look on his ashen face lacking humor and reminding Harry of Molly's expression when he found her in the drawing room. George must have been awake because Tonks was trying to coax him into eating a chocolate triangle.

"_Ennervate_!" Charlie woke up Bill. Fleur broke out into fresh tears. Arthur was casting that spell for the fourth time on Molly when Remus began with Percy. Dread resurfaced in Harry—those closest to the Mandrakes still weren't moving. Feeling like Bludgers were tied to his hands and feet, Harry willed himself to Ron and Hermione. They weren't moving but Ron was breathing, and his weight on Hermione threw Harry into a sudden panic of wondering if Ron had accidentally smothered her.

"_ENNERVATE_!" Molly twitched then stirred beneath her husband's touch. Arthur's eyes were red and glossy. Just then Percy awoke as well and immediately tried to go to his mother only to fall back against Lupin from dizziness.

As Harry knelt over Ron and Hermione he heard the terror in Molly's voice, "My sons, oh my sons—my babies…"

His arms were still shaking a bit with fear and weakness but Harry managed to roll Ron to the ground. "_Ennervate_!" he shouted at Hermione. "_Ennervate_!"

She awoke suddenly, cleanly, and her eyes instantly focused not on Harry but Ron, who looked worse than Harry prayed he was. Very, very slowly, Hermione sat up, not once blinking, and leaned over Ron. "Did he…?" Harry didn't have to answer. Somehow Hermione knew what had happened. Harry's throat clogged up when she placed her hand on Ron's neck placed a delicate kiss in the corner of his mouth before moving out of the way so that Harry could revive him as well.

Ron woke into the same panic he'd passed out in and Harry had to keep him from grabbing Hermione's ears. "It's ok," Hermione whispered, and she pulled Ron into a hug. When Ron didn't stop shaking, Harry kneeled and leaned over to wrap his arms around both of them, his nose in Hermione's hair. "I miss boring summers," croaked Ron from between them. "What I wouldn't give for a bloody boring summer of cleaning and de-gnoming and playing Quiddich on the ground. I'd give anything to be bored." Hermione gave a hot laugh and blinked her eyes at the sky. After they pulled away Ron fell back on his knees and got a good look at them both. "Harry, mate, are _you_ ok? You covered your ears, right?"

Harry had no clue what his expression was at the time but he instantly changed it, shrugged and supplied a grin, "Yeah, I'm fine." He used his wand to idly scratch his temple to give him an excuse for averting his eyes.

Harry wasn't smiling for much longer.

**---SMACK---**

Harry's wand dropped to the ground as both hands instinctively flew to his newly bruised cheek. Had Ron punched him? Had Hermione kicked him? But when he recovered from the shock, his cheek still throbbing, their expressions mirrored his own.

Ginny Weasley, cheeks flushed with fury, tears sprinkled in her eyes but expression taunt with passion, stared at Harry with a rage that stung worse than her slap. "Don't. You. _Ever_ even consider _that_ again Harryjamespotter—or I swear I'll kill you myself and then put a wand to _my_ head!" she shrieked at a level above the top of her voice.

Harry stopped rubbing his cheek. Hermione supplied a very Winky-like squeak. Ron's mouth remained unhinged in shock. The entire Weasley family froze and collectively held its breath. Ginny's anger sustained her for only a moment longer before she stomped her foot and marched up to Hogwarts.

"What…?" Ron managed a lengthy moment later.

"Ask Dean." Harry leapt to his feet and took off, finding himself heading towards Hagrid's empty hut with the simple goal of getting as far away from them as possible.

Shame, it turned out, was one of the stronger emotions.

-------

When Harry finally floo-powdered to the Basement, he found Ron and Hermione waiting for him, sitting very close to each other on an ancient green couch Tonks had recruited from the Grimmauld Place. Dean and Ginny weren't there and the Order members were out dealing with the afternoon's tragedy. Harry went soundlessly past them, making for the shop upstairs.

"Harry—Dean and Ginny went…Seamus was at the match. We haven't heard yet who's…Harry?" Hermione's voice stopped Harry's feet from ascending the stairs but it was Ron's that made him turn around.

"Harry, what the _Hell_ is going on with you?"

Hermione's scowling expression hadn't blinked and the soft look on Ron's face was equally surprising, both of which Harry chose to ignore when he muttered his rehearsed "Nothing guys," and turned away.

Harry didn't hear the spell Hermione used, merely felt the force of it as his ankles and wrists snapped together as if hogtied, and he was lifted into the air to land on the sofa, dumped down with an expert flick of a wand. But instead of looming with their arms crossed, frowning down at him from some pedestal, both Ron and Hermione slowly kneeled in front of Harry, knees to the floor and elbows to the cushions on either side of their best friend. With pleading eyes they looked at Harry, and waited. Soon Harry couldn't stand the attention, and he finally spoke, quietly. He leaned forward and put his face in his hands.

"I feel…" Harry was attempting to define the numbness in his chest. "I feel guilty about, about everything, about last year. It was—it was all my fault. I made assumptions and decisions that got people hurt and…" Hermione's eyes were filling. "My actions got _you_ hurt," Harry looked at the scars on Ron's arms, "I caused scars…and, and Sirius…"

"Harry," Hermione took Harry's hands in both of her own and began in a motherly tone, "Harry we all made decisions that day. Ron, Neville, Luna, Ginny and I didn't have to come with you, the Order wasn't forced to come after us, Sirius…we all did what we thought was right and Harry, there is nothing to forgive."

Harry frowned, "But I don't forgive myself…"

"Harry every decision is founded on an assumption," Ron murmured, "and all three of us have made bad assumptions at one time or another. We assumed that Snape was trying to get the Sorcerer's Stone, we assumed Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin, we assumed Sirius was trying to kill you, and we assumed we could trust your visions because you saw what happened to Dad. It's not your fault Dumbledore didn't just bloody come out and tell you what Voldemort was doing."

"But none of those other instances resulted in the death of my godfather…"

Hermione put her hand on Harry's elbow. "Is it worse that Sirius is gone…or that you think it's your fault?"

There was silence.

"Harry," Ron's voice had thickened, "You've got us, you'll always have us, mate. Remus too. And we love you." Harry didn't look at Ron but felt the weight of the statement. Their friendship had always had that depth, always. Best friends don't need words. Just like Harry didn't need a voiced apology from Ron after the First Task, words of love didn't need to be heard to know they were there. He loved Hermione, he loved Ron, and he suddenly wanted to tell them as much.

But another sudden emotion, one he couldn't target, filled him with a desire to separate himself even more. Harry got to his feet and Hermione held onto his left hand until he strode stiffly between them, his right hand on his wand in silent warning.

"Harry," Ron didn't move to stop him and this time the tone of his voice didn't even make Harry hesitate, "What can we do?"

Harry was half-way up the stairs before he managed to say, "I want Sirius back."

-------

**THOUSANDS KILLED AT QUIDDICH WORLD CUP MASSACRE  
**_The Second Great Wizarding War becomes an international reality!  
__Over thirty new Dark spells documented  
__Vampires reported to have joined You-Know-Who.  
__Did Fudge know this would happen?  
List of who died (and who didn't)  
__Will this tragedy quicken the Wizengamot's vote for Minister of Magic?  
__The Order of the Phoenix: Self-righteous outlaws or specialized Aurors?  
__Update on rogue dementors!  
__More attacks by the Death Eaters' mysterious Green Flame  
__Which known Death Eaters are at large?  
__Quiddich Cup orphans saved by Deafening Charm  
__Security neglect to blame?  
__Will Albus Dumbledore be Minister (does anyone even _want_ the job?)  
__How the Death Eaters attacked using Muggle "drilling" equipment!  
__Ministry Self-Defense packets being used for owlery floors. _

Harry had the following day's _Daily Prophet_ spread across the oak library table in the Basement.The familiar names of the list of dead caught his eye: Stewart Ackerley…Mancy Brocklehurst…Lavender Brown…Owen Cauldwell…Cho Chang…Penelope Clearwater…Seamus Finnigan…Daphne Greengrass…Viktor Krum…Sally-Ann Perks…Alyssa Sinistra…Rita Skeeter…Jack Sloper…Herman Wintringham…Oliver Wood…

When Harry finally skimmed down through the Zs he was interrupted by a tapping from the trap door. When he opened it, three Hogwarts school owls floated down past the Order's giant Grandfather Clock with a package clutched by all six claws. They gently set it on the table, directly over the _Daily Prophet_, and fluttered away, leaving a piece of parchment in their wake.

In Dumbledore's writing: _To Harry, a late birthday present. I have a feeling you might need it_. _And you will be continuing your Occlumency lessons in the fall, instructed by yours truly. See you soon_.

Harry slowly unwrapped the obviously fragile gift. For a moment he stared at it in disbelief, then looked back at the parchment and read a short list of instructions that he'd only heard vocally, or witnessed before. And then he raised his wand to his temple and drew a memory out.

-------

"A Pensieve!" Hermione exclaimed when Harry emerged with the bowl from one of the new Wizard space tents around the solid perimeter of the Basement. It was August 11th, Ginny's birthday, and Hermione had relocated to the Basement, having left her parents early to prepare for school. Already she'd opened a Gringotts account to change and deposit the money from her Muggle job. Meanwhile Harry could finally meet Ginny's eyes as they had been cleaning and discussing the upcoming Quiddich season. Ron and Ginny had dozens of ideas for drills and strategies while Harry would stand passively by, nodding at the right time but otherwise not fully interested.

Ron had awoken that morning with the same expression he usually had during Divination. "I think it's one of my brothers' birthdays today."

"Which one?" Harry had snickered.

"No clue—Probably that one with red hair."

"It's my birthday you prat." Ginny smacked her brother. Ron looked at her as if she was supposed to only be five.

The day before had certainly been eventful, though thankfully not the type of event that Harry needed to extract from his mind and add to the dozens of memories already in his Pensieve. Harry felt lighter without the memories, though not necessarily better. The Minister of Magic had been elected. Co-Ministers, to be exact (the Wizengamot's recommendation for a time of war): Amos Diggory and Arthur Weasley,. Arthur was humbly honored and excited. Molly was less than thrilled.

Remus came for Ginny's birthday, the first time he'd been near Harry since the Cup. He gave Harry a quick hug and there was some finality between them and loose laughter for the rest of the afternoon.

"So where's Dean today?" Harry attempted a conversation with Ginny after she opened his present. Ginny yanked the purple sweater over her head with a grin that was instantly contagious. On a whim Harry reached for her hair and gently tugged it out of the collar, not really realizing what he was doing until his fingertips grazed her neck. They made eye contact with each other and then instantly looked away.

"He, uh, was supposed to come but he's been…depressed lately. You know, with Seamus and Lavender…"

"Yeah…" Harry swallowed. He blindly reached for another topic. "Hey, where did Ron and Hermione go?"

Ginny tilted her head a bit and her hair bounced across her freckled cheek. "Maybe they're exchanging those love letters _in person_ this time?"

Harry frowned, "I didn't see them leave…"

Ginny suddenly stood up, "More cake, Harry?"

Harry looked around the Basement past Weasleys and Phoenix members. "They were just here."

Ginny tugged on his arm, "Come on Harry, let's show Mum that I wear _this_ size sweater and not those huge ones that she makes." Harry blinked at her for a second but would not be distracted. With Ginny still attached, Harry went over to his trunk beneath his hammock and looked for what was supposed to be just inside, cushioned by unused school robes.

He whirled on Ginny: "_Where is it_?"Ginny looked at her feet. Harry practically shoved her out of the way and made for the nearest wizard tent. He stuck his head in and then out, onto the next tent and then a third. And there it was, sitting on a rainbow rug in the center of the floor. He heard Ginny walk away before he could question her.

The Pensieve was glowing brightly and looked like it was boiling. When Harry leaned over it he saw that the silvery mist gave him an owl's eye view of the inhabited memory below, complete with the brown and red-haired intruders. Harry growled in his throat and dived into his own memory.

He nearly landed on top of Cedric's body.

Ron and Hermione were standing right by a 14-year-old Harry tied to the tombstone. 17-year-old Harry was about to grab them both but stopped when he looked down at Cedric. _Would Amos Diggory be Minister if his son was still alive? _Harry thought. Ron was staring at Wormtail, Hermione at Nagini. They both reached out to stop Pettigrew from stabbing Harry but their hands went right through him. They flinched from Harry's scream. Older Harry took a seat on the nearest gravestone and simply watched.

And then Voldemort was there. Ron and Hermione were seeing Voldemort for the first time.

"It only gets worse, you know."

Ron and Hermione reeled around with a collective gasp of surprise. From the tombstone Harry was about to scold them, but then he saw that there were tears in their eyes.

Hermione took a step away from him as if he were scarier than the Dark Lord. "Oh Harry I'm sorry. I know we're invading your privacy—"

"But we don't _really_ know what you've gone through, mate, and we just want to help—"

"We thought that the best way to try to understand what's wrong with you is to just see the memories themselves—"

Harry held up the palm of his hand to both of his best friends. For a moment the three of them looked at one another, then turned back to the scene which was now filling with Death Eaters. And then Harry motioned to both of them to come. He put an arm around Hermione's shoulders with Ron on her other side, his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Wordlessly they stood in that graveyard and watched the memory unfold. They could've sworn that James and Lily winked at them.

-------

On September 1st, half the Order escorted Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny to Kings' Cross to get on the Hogwarts Express for another school year. Ron carried both Fred and George's famous Cleansweeps over a shoulder. Hermione had tears in her eyes when they passed through Platform 9 ¾, the first time she had ever looked upset at leaving the Muggle world. Molly had given Harry an extra long hug and the twins had stuffed Ifs into his pockets. "See ya, Harry," Ginny waved on behalf of Ron and Hermione as those three went with Padma and Ernie towards the front of the train for the prefect meeting, passing a half-dozen Aurors on the way. At the last moment before the train pulled away from the station, Ginny stuck her head out of the nearest window and hollered, "Hey Mum! By the way—I'm a Prefect!" Harry could still hear Molly's shrieks even when they'd chugged a quarter mile down the track. Since they were late as usual, Harry shuffled past door after door until he got to the very back of the train, ignoring the gasps of the first years that recognized him as he went, until he discovered Neville Longbottom staring out the last foggy window of the train.

Neville nearly jumped out of his robes when Harry said hi, and jumped again when he realized it was Harry who'd said it. The Gryffindor sixth year smashed himself into the corner of his seat and began to sweat when Harry sat down across from him. "You ok there, Neville?" Neville shook his head up and down repeatedly, his eyes as wide as the goggling first years'. Harry frowned but decided he didn't have the energy to pry. "So…I see you got a new wand?"

A short, thick maple wand sat between Neville's thigh and Trevor the toad who was uncharacteristically docile. "Yeah," Neville squeaked. He brought his hand to his throat and cleared it. "Yeah, it was a gift from—from my uncle." Trevor stretched and seemed to yawn.

"And how is your grandmother doing?" Harry wondered to himself why he was making small talk when Neville was trying to squirm as far away from him as possible, like Dudley in the car.

Neville yanked the sleeve of his left arm down past his fingertips. "Oh she, she died. About a week after I got home from Hogwarts. I lived with my great Uncle Algie this summer, him and my Aunt Enid. He bought me the wand." Neville fidgeted all the more. Trevor seemed to have fallen asleep.

"Oh I'm sorry, Neville—I didn't realize—" Suddenly giggles came from the doorway. The noise only increased when Harry looked up to see the hallway jammed with students looking at the two Gryffindors like they were a zoo exhibit. Before Harry could tug his hair over his scar, the compartment was full with people demanding his autograph and with all the commotion, Neville managed to slip out of the compartment door.


	9. Til the Fat Lady Swings

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus

**Author's Notes:** The section of this chapter in italics is from Sirius Black's point of view. If you like this story, please read and review my other works. "Godfather Inheritance" is an implied Missing Moment of "The Man Who Lives."

_Chapter 8:_

'**Til the Fat Lady Swings **

"Then you should have died!" roared Black. "Died rather than betray your friends, as we would have done for you!" –Sirius to Peter (3, 375)

"I can't believe this!" Hermione screeched. She reared back and kicked the Fat Lady's portrait. "_Poppycock_!"

"Hmph! Poppycock indeed!" The portrait turned up her nose at the password and swung forward annoyingly slowly.

Hermione shoved her way past a group of first years and plopped unceremoniously onto the nearest couch in the common room, muttering to herself.

"Feel like you're home yet, Harry?" Ron asked as he held the portrait open.

Harry went and sat beside Hermione and looked at the fire, his friends, the grandfather clock by the door. He watched as the Fat Lady swung shut, and smiled. "Now I do."

"Excuse me!" Hermione interrupted. She slapped her palms on her thighs and glared at the two boys. "Let us recall what just happened!"

Ron plopped down between them and picked his teeth with a fingernail, "You mean how good the food was?"

"Or how the Hogsmeade visits are cancelled?"

"Or how Snape wasn't at the opening feast?"

"Neither was Hagrid."

"Or how the Sorting Hat was late for the only thing he's good for?"

"Or how Firenze is teaching Astronomy?"

"And he sang about prophecies and loyalty and unity and personal hygiene?"

"No!" Hermione yelled. "That tiny, apparently insignificant footnote about DUMBLEDORE RETIRING!"

"Oh, right," said Harry.

Ron shook his head and lowered his voice, "I'm more concerned with _Snape_ teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts! And Dumbledore said he was leaving, Hermione, not retiring."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I doubt Dumbledore's going to find some beach house and settle down in a porch swing!"

"You think—"

"No, no that makes sense." Harry nodded at Ron. "Things with the war aren't exactly improving. And I bet Dumbledore does feel a little guilty being here when he could be, well, you know."

Hermione still looked utterly depressed.

Harry laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back into the couch. "Hogwarts won't be the same without him. But we can't win this war without him either."

-------

Harry Potter finally turned away from the empty bed. Dean hadn't spoken since the sixth years had entered their room. Neville had bumped into him right inside the doorframe where Dean had stopped and stared at where a grinning Seamus Finnegan should've been. The room had been silent for most of the night. Dean went to bed straight away, Ron had Prefect duty and Harry and Neville attempted to play chess. Harry faked multiple yawns when Neville took his knight, and now the broken pieces looked grotesque in the moonlight.

_Sorry, Seamus. So Sorry. _

The final centimeters of the full moon's light ascended past Harry's tilted eyesight as he stared past his pillow and out of the dormitory window. He wondered if there really was a smile on one corner of his mouth, a frown on the opposite. With a sigh, Harry rolled over in his bed and tried to imagine that his roommates' breaths were ocean waves lulling him to sleep, but Dean's snores sounded like violent hiccups. Harry was about to give up, grab his school books and read up on Transfiguration when something stirred on the other side of the room. Instinctively, Harry tensed, but it was just Neville who was failing in his attempts to be stealthy. Even tiptoeing, he sounded like a mountain troll, like he was wearing hooves instead of slippers. He started towards the door, but Neville stopped beside Ron's bed (as best Harry could tell with his back turned), and drew back the four-poster's curtain. Harry frowned when Neville's quickening breaths began to have a sobbing rhythm: dad a dee, tat a tee, forgive me…forgive me…

Harry's paranoia kicked in when he adjusted his eyes to the reflection in the window he was still staring into. With a certain focus he could see Neville, see him draw something silver and orange from the pocket of his pajama pants and raise it over Ron's sleeping form. Harry darted out of bed a moment too late as Ron howled like an injured werewolf.

"Neville! What the Hell are you doing?" Dean was charging in but it was Harry's punch that knocked Neville away from Ron.

Before the two Gryffindors could restrain him, Neville raised his wand above his head and hollered "_Lumos Intensio_!" Harry was blinded just long enough. When the remaining multi-colored bubbles were blinked away, Neville had already stepped through the Inflatable Fireplace he'd opened in the room. The flames weren't maroon though, but black. Harry had a feeling Neville wasn't ending up in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

A gasp of pain from Ron drew Harry's attention and he turned just in time to witness Ron yanking a long, thick, empty needle out of his own neck.

"Dean—"

"On my way, Harry," Dean grabbed his robe and dashed downstairs for the hospital wing.

"Here," Harry didn't recognize his own voice, and immediately cleared his throat as he pressed a pillow to Ron's neck as blood spouted from a deep hole.

"What…did I ever…do to him?" Ron gasped, wincing under the pressure.

Harry leaned over the bed and made to pick up the syringe that had fallen on the floor but just as his fingers touched it there was a tiny explosion, and it shattered itself into unobservable shards, leaving no evidence. Harry cursed.

"Ron, are you ok?"

"Harry, I have a hole in my neck the size of a vampire bite—"

"Ron, he injected something into you, you could be poisoned, Ron." The pillow was soaked nearly through. "You're bleeding fast—maybe we should just go to the infirmary." Harry didn't want to think about what Hermione would do to him if Ron bled to death. "Can you walk?" he asked quietly.

Ron rolled his wide eyes, his face as white as Nearly Headless Nick. With Harry beside him, bracing himself for a catch, Ron smoothly got up and, still holding the pillow to his neck, started forward. Harry was about to chuckle at his friend's stubbornness when Ron suddenly teetered.

He passed out before they reached the door.

-------

"Well, we know where Snape was at dinner."

"What?" Hermione vaguely asked, surfacing from where she'd had her face buried in her arms.

Harry drew the curtain back separating Ron's bed from another's. There lay Severus Snape looking paler than ever with long gashes down his face and neck that extended below the blanket tucked under his chin. In all the commotion of Harry carrying Ron into the Infirmary, with half of the Gryffindors crowded behind him, Snape hadn't stirred a bit.

"Hmmmm…" was Hermione's response before she turned back to Ron. Harry sighed, dropped the curtain and settled into the chair on the other side of the bed. He ran a hand through his uncharacteristically limp hair and left his palm at his forehead to lean against. Ron moaned in his stupor and fingered the bandages around his neck.

"Hi."

Harry looked up to see Remus Lupin enter the hospital wing. Wrapped in a long brown trench coat over dirty robes, boots haphazardly laced and muddied, Remus offered a gentle smile. "Have you slept?" Harry shook his head, looked to Hermione, and snorted to see that she had just fallen asleep, her cheek on Ron's arm. It was well into the three o'clock hour. Remus pulled up a chair at the foot of Ron's bed, looking like he hadn't gotten any sleep either. "The Weasley's are on their way."

Harry nodded and wiped at his eyes.

"I was just talking with Dumbledore. I've been researching Wandless Magic, and he's given me permission to start…training you, if you want."

"I didn't know you were here."

"I brought Snape—" Remus suddenly looked like Hagrid when he told something that was supposed to be a secret.

Harry bent forward with his elbows on his knees and lowered his voice. "What happened to him, Remus? Is he exposed?"

Lupin hesitated and Harry was thankful that his godfather was at least considering telling him. "You know I can't say, Harry."

"Because I'm not a member of the Order."

"No…Because you haven't mastered Occlumency."

Harry stared. "Right." He reached out and brushed a strand of Hermione's hair away from her eyes. Ron shifted in the bed and his pajamas shortened all the more.

Lupin looked at him for a minute and then sat back in his chair, arms folded at his chest.

Harry shifted in his seat. Although Remus was his beloved godfather, comfortable silence had yet to come easy. _But_, Harry thought, _if that is my biggest complaint about our relationship_…

"Did we…Did I ever tell you," Remus finally interrupted both of their thoughts with a soft outburst, "About the time when Moony nearly _ate_ Prongs?"

Harry's jaw dropped. He had no clue why that concept was so…amusing! "What? When did that happen?"

Remus chuckled hollowly as he looked at Ron's unconscious face as if apologizing for bringing the subject up. "Seventh year. Spring, I think. Yes, not long before graduation. Harry have you ever heard the phrase "once in a blue moon"? Well, once in a blue moon the moon really is blue. And it turns out that a full blue moon makes an already dangerous werewolf…insane."

Harry frowned and looked at Ron as well, "You mean you were…stronger?"

"Yes. Bigger, as well. I'm told I was at least twice as big as the usual form. Your mother tried to warn us that might happen." Remus put his fist under his chin, "I don't know why we didn't listen to every single word she ever said…" Remus sighed. Harry swallowed and thought of Hermione. "Lily just about killed James even while he was still recovering."

Harry had an image of Lily smacking the Hell out of his father, James laughing and tickling her until she smiled. "So what happened?" Remus went silent for only a moment before he began.

-------

_Sirius Black hated this part, right before Remus' transformation. He hated feeling the electricity in the Shrieking Shack, the shift in Remus' mood, the look in his friend's eyes, the feverish expression, the way Remus convulsed and groaned. The only thing he did appreciate was the few minutes of alone time. Padfoot was always with Moody during the transformation while Prongs and Wormtail waited outside the Shack to meet up with them. Sirius and Remus didn't get to just be with each other. If James was with Lily there was still Peter hovering around. Sirius sighed. It would never be just the two of them. _

_Moonlight suddenly blasted through the window and Remus twitched in the opposite corner of the room. Sirius sighed and leaned onto his haunches, mentally preparing himself for the night ahead. He had homework to do at dawn, but between transformations would be a good time, as long as they didn't run into that herd of Centaurs again. _

_"Padfoot…" _

_Sirius immediately transformed at Remus' feverish plea. Sirius hated this, Merlin, he hated this. Remus seized violently, his head slamming into the wooden floor. Padfoot winced and whined out loud though his friend was in the in-between stage and neither Remus nor Moony was capable of communication. Padfoot clawed at the floor and turned away as Remus started to shriek in pain, the voice shifting from human to beast by degrees. But something else caught Padfoot's attention, a familiar smell. He tipped his wet nose up and sniffed towards the door. Potter blood. James must have nicked his arm on a stray nail again. Stupid deer. _

_Moony snorted and Sirius turned back to him, only to find not Moony, but a giant of a monster stalking towards him on all fours. He was at the height he usually was on two legs, his mouth foaming and his eyes, his eyes had gone white. Padfoot's hair bristled up on end at the sight. This was new. Sirius bellowed his most intimidating bark but the werewolf didn't even blink those eyes. Uh oh. _

_Padfoot kicked out but the wolf grabbed his paw and flung the dog across the room with a fairly passive swipe, and continued past the door. Padfoot shook himself. Moony had never done that. The boy dove forward and bit the wolf's ankle, dragging him back into the room, but shook him off with a simple flick. The werewolf was sniffing the air, and he seemed to grow taller with each inhale. Padfoot barked at him as he got up, limping a bit. But Moony ignored him. Moony never ignored Padfoot. _

_Suddenly the wolf bolted out the door and Sirius scrambled after him, barking loud enough to be heard at Hogwarts, "PRONGS!"_

_The stag's antlers were waiting for Moony when he got to the door but the werewolf barely them. From behind, Padfoot saw blood on Prong's left front leg, not enough to drip but plenty to entice a hungry monster. Wormtail leapt from Prongs' back and scurried into the Shack as the wolf wrapped his front paws around the antler tips and pushed with a growl. Prongs' hooves dug into the grass and his tail flicked in determination. Padfoot leapt onto the wolf's back and sank his teeth in when the deer's black eyes had widened with fear. Padfoot landed on the grass in a limp heap and when he was able, he raised his eyes to see Prongs lying on the ground on all four lefts trying to bat the wolf away. Moony reared back, his white eyes tinted by the moon's blue light, and swiped at the deer's belly so hard he was twisted onto his back. Prongs gasped in pain as blood rippled out of the gash. _

_Padfoot sprung up at the sight, "James, RUN!" _

_That was the cue. If the Animagi used their non-Animagus names, that meant trouble. Moony reared up in a howl as Padfoot clamped teeth around his tail. Prongs was up and sprinting away down the hill towards the forbidden forest, leaving a trail of blood as he went. Lily's going to kill me for this! Sirius thought when Moony took after Prongs. _

"_Peter!" _

_Wormtail didn't emerge but Sirius didn't really expect him to. Re-gathering his strength, Padfoot took off after Moony into the forest, and what he saw nearly dismembered him internally. _

_The stag was always faster, had always been. But whatever moonlight had infected Moony had increased his speed as well. There was blood on Prongs' antlers and on Moony's face, but James was hesitant, as they all were to hurt Remus. _

"_James!" Padfoot barked as he neared the clearing. _

_Moony pushed the deer onto his back again and powerful claws ripped across the stag's shoulders, across an ear. Prongs convulsed and kicked and rolled with all his might but Moony had him pinned. With a mighty howl Moony used both sets of his claws and raked them down Prongs' hindquarters and back. The deer reared up in pain before falling limply at the wolf's feet. Moony shrieked in victory. He leaned forward to bite James' neck—_

_Sirius barreled into the scene and knocked Moony off of Prongs. The two animals rolled up and turned to each other. Padfoot planted himself in front of Prongs and growled at those white eyes, daring the wolf to come near his best friend again. Moony was about to pounce when something blasted him from behind. A streak of red launched Moony into the air and when he landed he roared at the wand it came from. Sirius squinted and saw the form of 17-year-old Severus Snape take off with the werewolf on his heels. Padfoot could've sworn Snape transformed into a bat that the werewolf continued after until his huge, shadowed form disappeared deep into the woods. _

_Padfoot immediately turned back to Prongs and switched to Sirius who rolled the deer towards him as gently as possible. _

"_James? James!" _

_The stag opened glazed eyes and then James Potter was there. The last of his energy and consciousness used up, James muttered Sirius' name and passed out. Sirius had carried James to Hogwarts, leaving him with Madam Pomfrey before going to Gryffindor tower to yell up the staircase to the girls' dormitory until the other rudely awakened girls retrieved Lily. She's been a peach, managed to conjure up some impressive excuse for them that made James proud when he finally regained consciousness. And Sirius, the next morning, once James and Remus were safe and in bed and going to be all right, had finally collapsed from his own wounds. _

-------

Harry Potter stared at Remus, "Snape…turned into a _bat_? I thought that just happened in cheesy Muggle movies." Remus smiled a bit. "He's…he's a vampire?"

Remus' eyes turned to the curtain directly behind Harry though there was no noise coming from it. "Half vampire. Sunlight doesn't hurt him. His mother and father both were, both supported Voldemort. Pure wizards and pure vampires. And when Voldemort called on them to bite their only son and therefore make Snape unwillingly loyal, Severus was ready for it. He didn't want to be a vampire, or a Death Eater. He was always good at Potions, and drank his own invented concoction before his parents…attacked him. A stopper in un-death you could call it, I suppose. He stabbed his father in the heart with his wand after that. Vampires are naturally drawn to Voldemort, pure evil and all. That's how Snape has kept his double-agent cover going for so long. Not only is he an Occulmens but Voldemort thinks he's pure vampire."

"And that's why Dumbledore trusts him. And that night, he just happened to be out in the forest."

"He's always up. Why do you think you keep running into him in the corridors at night? And yes, he saved your father's life, but that never really made them even. Not in Snape's mind, at least."

"Oh I can't wait to tell Ron and Hermione that he _literally_ doesn't have a soul."

Remus let out a bark of a laugh that sounded distinctly Sirius-like. "Don't get your hopes up, he still has a soul. Well, technically at least. I would like to argue otherwise of course."

"This is what you wanted to tell me about him. This is what you said my mother would want me to know."

Remus folded his hands. They had both gone back to looking at Ron who lay quietly, his breathing the loudest sound even above their voices. "There is something else that your mother would want me to tell…" Remus sighed. "Or maybe not. I was never meant to make these decisions. That was supposed to be Sirius' job…"

Harry flinched at the name and looked away.

"Funny how Sirius always associated dark creatures with evil. Snape is half vampire, and I'm full werewolf, but he always saw me as pure good." Remus bowed his head for a moment and said partly to himself, "You need Sirius more than me…"


	10. Wandless and Fancy Free

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus

**Author's Notes:** Help! I'm going through review withdrawal!

_Chapter 9_:

**Wandless and Fancy Free**

-"…the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters." –Sirius Black (5, 302)

_He was at Azkaban, and there they were. _

_Harry felt his heart go invisible with lightness. He darted forward, breathless from the speed despite the short distance. _

_Harry counted red heads as he ran. Two, three, six, eight…only eight. He counted again: three, six…only eight. Who was missing? Harry felt himself drawn to Mrs. Weasley who was lying still and silent, chained by one wrist and one ankle to the prison floor. Molly stirred when Harry whispered quick spells to disintegrate the chains as the other Order members helped the rest of the Weasleys as quietly as possible. Harry glanced around as he helped Molly up. Arthur was being carried by both Kingsley and Remus, unconscious and covered in blood. Only Bill, Percy and Charlie seemed to be able to hold themselves up, all three bruised and limping. _

_"Harry," Mrs. Weasley croaked. She made a valiant effort to push him away but slumped against the wall. Tonks appeared to their left, looking grim as she hovered over a deathly pale George. Angelina had her arms around Fred who sat next to his twin looking petrified. "Harry—" Molly tried again. _

_"Shh, stay quiet, Mrs. Weasley, we don't want to be discovered."_

_"Nooo…" she moaned. She took a deep breath to summon another sentence but caught sight of Percy and Bill, now freed, lifting up Ron who shook from Craticus aftershocks even in his sleep. _

_"I've got him," Bill stated quietly as he took their youngest brother fully in his arms. His chin quivered but he stood straight. _

_"My babies…" Molly moaned. Just then Dumbledore entered with a flourish of his robes. He took what Harry was sure was a Quaffle from his cloak. A Portkey. "Harry, it's a trap. Harry, please listen." Harry turned back to Molly whose eyes were ablaze with urgency, "They're expecting you, they're—they're letting you get us but they have—Harry, Harry you must leave, they're after y-you—Ginny, he has Ginny—"_

_Harry was away in a dash before Molly or anyone else could call him back. He had no clue where he was going, no evidence of where to find Ginny and an entire _island_ to search—_

_"Harry! HARRY! Help me! I'm down here, Harry, hurry!" _

_A staircase that Harry could've sworn hadn't been there before led down from the main corridor of Azkaban's cells. But nothing mattered but the urgency in Ginny's voice and Harry jogged down the stairs, ignoring the fact that each step disappeared behind him as he went. _

_"Ginny!" _

_"Harry!" _

_"Ginny—" Harry skidded to a stop when he saw her. The basement of Azkaban was dark and murky and Harry practically felt the ocean waves lap against the walls. Ginny was standing, but Harry didn't know how. It looked like both of her legs were broken. And she was grinning, widely…too widely. Harry's stomach clenched and he raised his wand as a shrouded figure descended from the shadows._ "Finite Incantatem."

_Imperius lifted, Ginny shook the remaining evil out of herself, and recognized Harry for the first time. "Harry," she gasped, her voice thick with pain and shame, "I'm so sorry Harry he, he used me…again—run…" She crumpled to the floor, unconscious. _

_Harry pivoted to the Death Eater. He had been expecting Malfoy, or a Lestrange. Even Wormtail. _

_He was not expecting the Dark Lord himself. _

_"Harry Potter. I've been expecting you." _

_Voldemort raised his wand._

Harry awoke as if an earthquake had hit. He immediately turned over in his bed to find Ron's empty. Seamus' bed was empty. Neville's was empty. He took a deep breath and slung his arm over his shoulder, waiting for the sun to fully rise.

-------

"Did you get my class schedule?"

Harry cocked his head at Hermione as he plopped into the chair by Ron's bed in the hospital wing. "You don't trust me, do you?" He handed her breakfast, class schedule and morning Owl mail over in a single pile.

"Honestly, Harry, I trust you with unimportant things, like my life." Hermione sighed as she spread her things across Ron's legs. "But my schoolwork?"

Ron Weasley snorted and wiggled his toes to get her off. He scratched at the bandage around his neck, the only thing out of place on their first day of the school term. Madam Pomfrey had been running tests on Ron all morning. No discernable poison, infection or abnormality of any kind was found in his body. A vase full of violently violet flowers with long, droopy orange leaves was on the bedside table next to them, courtesy of Luna Lovegood, who swore they sucked any diseases out of you by attaching their leaves to your ears while you sleep.

The door behind them opened again with Ginny and Dean strolling through it. They looked like they weren't about to respond to greetings even if they were offered with sincere enthusiasm. Dean handed an envelope to Ron, and Ginny a _Daily Prophet_ to Hermione. Her cheeks were white. They sat on opposite ends of the bed next to Ron's. When Ron asked what the envelope was (his name was written on the outside), Dean explained that he'd found it under Neville's pillow.

"Oh my…" Hermione emerged from the front page of the newspaper. She flipped it for them all to see. The headline read _Death Eater_ _Bodies Found at Riddle Mansion_. As Ron opened the envelope, Hermione read aloud from the article. "Igor Karkaroff dead…Dark Mark over a Death Eater…Polyjuice Potion fooled Aurors into thinking the body was Bellatrix Lestrange…Potion wore off to reveal the ex-Durmstrang Headmaster… Other body…sixteen-year-old Neville Longbottom…Priori Incantatem revealed the Killing Curse from his wand…Minister's son injured earlier last night…Arthur Weasley's leadership in question because of supposed "bending" of the rules in his position in Misuse of Muggle Artifacts… sympathy and communications with Muggle minister improved…Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' Inflatable Fireplaces being banned and recalled for security reasons… yadda yadda yadda…"

Hermione folded the newspaper and slammed it against her lap. "This is why Neville did it! He was guaranteed to be allowed to kill the woman who harmed his parents but he was tricked! They wanted Karkaroff dead and this was just a more entertaining way to do it!…But why would Voldemort want him to do this to Ron…"

"Oh it's more complicated than that." Ron's voice was uncharacteristically hushed. He looked at Harry who met his eyes with a frown. Ron tossed the letter from Neville like a Frisbee into Hermione's hands. She stared at him before beginning to read. "Read it out loud." Hermione swallowed several times before continuing.

"_Dear Ron. By the time you get this letter you'll probably be feeling better, but they tell me that won't last. And to be honest, that's all I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry about this, about what I'm going to do. And no, I'm not under Imperius (I kinda wish I was). I take full responsibility for this. My Uncle Algie and the Death Eaters gave me an ultimatum. I had the choice between three people to give the Serum to: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley or Ginny Weasley. I couldn't hurt Ginny, I just couldn't. And Harry has always been so kind to me and he—he just seems so important, like everyone needs him or something—I don't know…The Serum is some sort of biological weapon that they've been testing with House-elves and now they're ready for human subjects. I'm sorry, Ron. But they said if I didn't do it, they'd kill my parents_." Hermione hesitated. "_And if I did do it, they'd cure them. Voldemort's followers have…connections at St. Mungo's; they know how to cure insanity from Craticus_." Hermione bowed her head. "_I'll contact you as soon as possible, I promise. Maybe if I'm around them long enough I'll be able to find the antidote. I don't want you to die, Ron…but I want my parents back too. Ask Harry what he would do in this situation, if he had the chance to get his mum and dad back. I'm sorry I'm not brave, guess I'm not a Gryffindor after all. Please forgive me_…_Neville_."

Hermione rubbed the letter gently between her thumb and forefinger. Harry heard the tears in her voice: "We better tell Madam Pomfrey…I guess we know who the "Peter" of the group is…" She raised her chin and met Harry's eyes and the look exchanged between them was one of…failure.

Ron's lips made an extra loud smack as he gnawed at a piece of toast from breakfast. "Huh?"

-------

"God I _hate_ this nasty room," Snape was sneering from the front of the class. It was two days later, and the Gryffindor sixth years were enduring their first Defense class. Snape was layered in black robes up to his chin and he turned his white pointed nose up towards some invisible enemy near the ceiling. He sniffed and Harry waited to be accused of something or other. "Still reeks of _garlic_ from that idiot Quirrel. Imbecile," he growled.

Harry sighed and allowed his eyes to relax out of focus. He had a list in his head that seemed to him a living, breathing monster. He pictured it chiseled into a gravestone, a liquid one that was constantly growing. It was a list of his friends and loved ones who were victims: his Mum and Dad, Cedric, Sirius, Seamus, Cho, Lavender, Oliver…Neville…

"Potter. POTTER! On your feet."

Harry looked up to see Snape pointing a wand at him. Harry raised and eyebrow as he rose to his feet. He was not in the mood to fight.

"Now, before we continue with the theory of the Imperius curse, I'd like to dispel a rumor I've heard around Hogwarts that Potter has "strength of character." Laughable. Supposedly Mr. Potter here is renowned for his ability to fight off Dark enchantments but," Snape snorted at Harry, he looked positively gleeful, "I doubt the abilities of those who have tried to curse him."

"Would that refer to Barty Crouch, Jr. or to Voldemort?" Harry dryly asked.

The room gasped but Snape's eyes narrowed. Without further ado he hissed "_Imperio_" and Harry felt his body wrapped around by the curse as if it were a noose. The world became hazy and surreal but sharp. He heard Snape's hissing voice in his ear but he straightened against it…

…and then deflated. _Why bother_? Harry wondered to himself. _Why should I bother with any of this anymore…I'll be dead soon…why bother…_He felt numb again and he shut his eyes as Snape cackled commands in his ear. Some part of his will that used to be fueled by Sirius was depleted, and Harry didn't watch as Snape made his body move…

"I never thought I'd be annoyed with Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione yawned when they exited an hour later.

"Bloody git, Snape is. Do you think he's not teaching us on purpose?"

"Honestly, Ron. Every time we're suspicious of him we're wrong. There must be a reason why he's not teaching us anything more than theory. Didn't think anyone could be worse than Umbridge. By the way, Harry, you were a very graceful ballerina. I didn't know you could stretch and jump like that."

"At least Snape didn't transfigure your robes into a pink tutu?" Ron offered.

"That was grotesque…"

Harry rolled his eyes. The three Gryffindors were heading to lunch after the torture of Binns and Snape. Ron sighed on Harry's left and Hermione hiked her knapsack higher on her shoulder on his right. They'd been doing that lately, walking down the hallway with Harry between them. Harry didn't know if this was a conscious act on their part or not, and he had yet to decide if it was comforting or annoying.

"Did you hear what we're doing in McGonagall's class?" Hermione looked like the news was the highlight of her year. "We're not transfiguring animals into objects but objects into _animals_! Doesn't that sound—"

"Pointless?" Ron declared. Just then Crookshanks barreled into the hallway from the direction of Gryffindor's common room. The cat screeched and darted between students' legs as a roaring Mrs. Norris chased her.

Harry had just begun to ask if either of them knew what was for lunch when Ron suddenly stopped walking.

Hermione kept on going before she noticed. She looked all set to be annoyed when she pivoted around. Harry assumed Ron had bent to tie a shoe. But Ron had just simply stopped, was simply standing still, his palm at his chest. Their fellow students walked around him without a second glance.

"Ron, come _on_!" Hermione demanded. Ron blinked, the hand at his heart shaking. Harry took a cautious step towards him.

"Ron?" Ron's chin snapped up and he lowered his hand, flashing a smile and a shrug and stepping forward again.

And he promptly crumpled to the floor.

-------

Harry Potter kicked open the door to the hospital wing. Hermione scurried in front of him, yelling for Madam Pomfrey. Ron hadn't so much as fluttered an eyelash during his bumpy trip in Harry's arms. Harry grunted as he gently lowered his best friend into the nearest bed, muttering fondly for Ron to lose some weight. He flicked his wand and said "_Enervate_!" for the fourth time but Ron still didn't stir. Harry sighed and leaned his fists into the mattress, bowing his head. "God…"

"Move, Potter!" Pomfrey appeared with a small vial in her bony fist. In an experienced motion she shook, uncorked and held the potion to Ron's nose and a moment later he was awake.

Ron blinked, looking not dizzy or ill or groggy but surprised. "Didn't I just leave here?"

"If you wanted to miss more classes, Ron, try a Skiving Snackbox."

Hermione looked less amused than Harry. She stood off to the side, arms wrapped around herself, upper teeth biting her lower lip.

Ron sat up and swung his legs over the bed. "Harry, I'm fine."

"You fainted."

"Say 'passed out,' mate, doesn't sound so girlie."

"You were touching your chest, Ron, did it hurt?"

Ron frowned; thinking as he smoothly got to his feet, ignoring Harry's outstretched arms and Poppy's utterance about "ungrateful students." "I don't remember." A shadow of something somersaulted through his eyes but it quickly fled. "I'm hungry, let's get lunch already."

Both boys jumped at the sound of a door slamming shut. Hermione had just stormed out and disappeared down the hall. Harry shrugged at Ron's raised eyebrow.

"I just need some food," Ron concluded partly to himself as he led the way out of the infirmary.

Hermione was not in the Great Hall so they ate alone and in a dense silence. Harry stayed a step behind Ron the rest of the day, not in case he had to catch him, he didn't want Ron to see his face. During the following weeks, Harry made observations unbeknownst to Ron: half-eaten dinners, vomiting in their bathroom at 3am, lack of concentration during Quiddich practices, subconscious moments of rubbing his chest or head at whatever pain was there, obvious fevers that could be felt from feet away, sleeping (more than usual!) in class…Harry hoped he was falling in love, that this was not the result of whatever had been in that needle Neville had. Even visiting St. Mungo's on Sundays for more extensive testing hadn't revealed a thing.

One night Harry shook Ron awake from a bad dream (quite the role reversal). In explanation Ron murmured, "I was kissing…But then I opened my eyes and she was a Dementor…"

-------

Meanwhile there were Occlumency lessons, Wandless Magic trainings and Quiddich practices. Occlumency was suddenly quite easy for Harry.

"Excellent, Mr. Potter!" Dumbledore clapped his long fingered hands together. "Only your second lesson with me and you've already mastered Occlumency. Professor Snape must've had more progress last year than either of you knew." The Hogwarts headmaster gathered his robes and sat behind his desk. Fawkes hooted his approval from a perch above. "Or perhaps you have the proper motivation this time, hmmm?"

Harry crossed his arms at his chest, "I would've had the same motivation this time last year, if I had been told certain things."

Dumbledore looked at him and then slowly his head began to vibrate into a nod. "Yes, perhaps. Perhaps indeed." Harry didn't look back as he left the office.

Wandless Magic was tricky but Remus was a good teacher who punctually rolled out of the Room of Requirement's fireplace every evening with a huge maroon book in his hand: Godric Gryffindor's journals.

"I only know of two other people who are able to do Wandless Magic—"

"You mean someone who's alive now?"

"—Gryffindor being the only one who has documented his discovery of it—no Harry of course I don't know anyone, other than House-elves—hey we should have Dobby teach you!" Remus grinned at the horrified look on his godson's face before continuing, "Anyway, we've all done it at some point. Young wizards do it accidentally when their powers are just emerging as I'm sure you know. ("I burnt Fred's shorts off," Ron muttered.) It's just in very rare occasions that someone is able to harness that when they're older. Although, as Mad-Eye likes to remind us, accidents do happen. The trick is in focusing it." Remus flipped open the maroon book and his face disappeared behind it. "Gryffindor also mentions that his father was an Animagus and he hypothesizes that the offspring of Animagi may be more likely to be able to control their Wandless powers. Another theory is that, because the spell is in you rather than from you, into the wand, that if you use a Killing Curse Wandless Magically, it might kill you as well. Gryffindor writes that whenever he uses any pain curse, a stinging hex, Craticus, etc., he felt the pain in him as well as transferred it to the victim. And eventually you shouldn't even have to speak the spell out loud. When you summon you're telling the wand what magic to pull out of yourself but with Wandless Magic, with your fingers attached to your mind, they don't need told what to do. Fascinating."

For their first lesson, which Ron and Hermione attended out of curiosity, Lupin took out a long skinny wand and placed it in Harry's hand. "Alright, let's see that swish-and-flick."

Harry rolled his eyes, "I'm a sixth year, Remus. I know how to do that."

"I know I know," Remus wrapped his brown robes around himself and smiled at Harry with an unusual sparkle in his eye. "But according to Gryffindor you have to make that same motion with your fingers when you're Wandless. Naturally you'll start to do it almost microscopically (pardon the Muggle term) when you get used to that motion, just like you do now with a wand, but I want you to practice it like this for now. And then there's all these spells that you just have to think of without pointing your hand—like this permanent Wandless Magic shield of some sort that you can keep up all the time, it deflects major curses but—oh we'll get to that later. But now use your right hand, your wand hand. And try to access some strong emotion, Harry—anger or fear or love—"

Harry blushed when Ginny's face sprung up in his mind. He looked to Ron and Hermione, the latter who was watching in awe and the former who was sitting on the floor and fiddling with the feathers of one of Hermione's quills. Hermione shrugged and Harry raised the new wand: "_Relashio_," fiery sparks lit up the room, "_Evanesco_" and Hermione's quill disappeared, and with "_Lumos_" the room was lit by an unnecessarily bright light. Harry pointed at the bricks of the fireplace and was surprised when they all cracked and half after a simple "_Diffindo_!" For a moment Harry could've sworn he _sensed_ the spell as well as cast it.

Ron backed away from the fireplace and Hermione frowned at the wand in Harry's possession, "Does that wand make spells more powerful?"

"No, no no," Lupin was grinned as he shook his head. "_That_ wand is from the twins' joke shop!" The three teenagers frowned at him. "It's not real! To do Wandless Magic you have to focus the spell as if you have a wand in your hand! And as you can see, Wandless is _significantly_ stronger than wanded magic. That's why Godric Gryffindor was so powerful! As a rule: magic can be focused better with a wand but it's stronger when used without one. Although he also said that doing it Wandless can weaken you very quickly…"

"What? Oh let me see that!" Ron reached up and snatched the wand out of Harry's hand. "_Lumos_!"

With what sounded like a laugh the wand _imploded_ and left dust spiraling all over the room and a distinct, spicy scent in the air that made Ron's eyes itch and burn.

Ron, Remus and Hermione turned back to Harry. Lupin's godson stared at them for a second and then stared at his right hand. He mimed holding a wand, wrapped his fingers around some invisible stick, concentrated and then said firmly, "_Lumos_."

Light shot out of his pads of his fingers.


	11. Draco's Ultimatum

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus

**Author's Notes:** Never fear, Olivia, there will be Hermione drama soon. Ten chapters (well, 11 actually), whoo! It's miraculous that I haven't abandoned this yet! PLEASE REVIEW!

_Chapter 10_:

**Draco's Ultimatum**

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy." –Harry to Neville (1, 218)

At the Gryffindor try-outs, Harry had unceremoniously announced that he was stepping down as Quiddich captain and had promoted Ginny (the news was new to her), his reasons based on the fact that Chasers are more involved in the game than the Seeker, that he wouldn't be able to lead when concentrating on the Snitch.

"Gee Harry, thanks! You do realize you've just given my little sister the opportunity to _torture_ me!" Ron had exclaimed in protest. "She'll be worse than Fred and George!"

Ginny later admitted that Charlie had once told her that was why his team was so bad when he was in charge. Seekers just weren't strategic for captainship.

Harry was a nervous wreck the entirety of their first practice with Ginny watching him so much. During a break she rubbed his hair until it stood up even further than it was wind-blown. She said she liked it that way and Harry promptly swore to himself that he would never again try to fix it.

And meanwhile…

Meanwhile Hagrid returned. Meanwhile Dumbledore was preparing to leave the school. Meanwhile Halloween came and went, Dean and Ginny separated, students were yanked from Hogwarts by their parents and Harry's grades dropped as anything outside the war became inconsequential. Meanwhile Ron's health was declining with no foreseeable cause. When Hermione wasn't in the library she was often in their dorm room where it would be just the three of them separated from the rest of the castle, isolated and together.

-------

In the beginning of November, the first Quiddich match of the season was Gryffindor verses Slytherin. The previous months had been building suspense. For his part, Harry was all the more anxious because Remus was there to watch him play.

Harry was nearly grateful for Ron's illness because it allotted the Weasley twins plenty of time and excuses to work with the Gryffindor beaters. Orlando and Luke were fierce during the team practice on Friday, and quite frankly clobbered Remus who'd been defending the opposite hoops. Remus wasn't a bad Keeper, but Ginny was an excellent Chaser, and the other two, Elspeth Hodges and Ruth Pierce were equally light and fast. Ron was pacing back and forth in front of his hoops, doing impressively well flying considering he could barely stand half the time. Harry checked on him every few minutes, and got a thumbs up each time.

Hermione was a wreck the morning of the match. She didn't even pester the boys to eat breakfast because she hadn't touched her food either. Half-way through the meal, Madam Pomfrey showed up and force fed Ron a quarter bottle of some pain-killer liquid that smelled like a mixture between Pumpkin juice and Hagrid's socks. Ron was still sputtering while he and Harry changed into their robes. Hermione had followed them down to the locker room, muttering all the way.

"…be careful, ok? You're sick, Ron, so if one of those red things is too far out of reach just let it go, all right? Harry will catch the Snitch and you'll win no matter how many times the red thing goes through those round things. And Harry, this is the first match since you named Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle's parents as Death Eaters so they'll be out for you—"

"Hermione!" both boys sputtered.

"_Honestly_!" she hissed back. "I just want you to be careful; it kills me to watch you both up there!"

"Er, Hermione, we have to go change now," Ron pointed at Hermione's feet which had followed them through the locker room door. "Why don't you go sit in the stands and read _Memorizing Memorable Memories_ to distract you from Harry and me risking our lives, ok?"

Hermione huffed, trying to cover up the blush that had bloomed across her face. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, if you get hurt I swear I'll erase your memory of how to fly a broomstick!"

"She probably could, ya know?" Ron stated while he and Harry stretched. "All she's done lately is read those memory books! I saw the homework she handed into McGonagall the other day—her hand writing was _sloppy_!"

-------

"Good luck, mate!" Ron called to Harry when the team began doing laps around the pitch to warm up. A quarter of an hour later, Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and Harry aimed his broomstick for the sky. Not two seconds into the game, Dennis Creevey announced that Slytherin had scored. Flabbergasted, Harry looked down to see that Ron hadn't even made it to the hoops yet. Ron cursed which oddly caused Harry to smile. He couldn't imagine not seeing a red-headed Weasley in the team below him…

"Tired yet, Potter?" Draco Malfoy's icy voice taunted from behind Harry. Harry pulled his broom up level with Draco, as Dennis announced that Ginny Weasley had scored. Harry glared at that cocky grin. "Weasley's doing pretty good down there!"

Harry risked a glance at Ron.

"Not bad considering he'll be on his death bed…I had such high hopes. Didn't know Weasley had it in him."

"There's a lot in him that people don't know about," Harry growled. Just then a Bludger soared between the two Seekers, allotting Harry an extra moment of consideration before he "accidentally" aimed a Wandless Magic splintering charm at Malfoy's broom. Below them, Ron made a spectacular save which involved him head-butting the Quaffle into Ginny's hands. Harry grinned and was about to rub it in Malfoy's face when the Slytherin flew in near his head.

"By the way, Potter, you and I need to have a conversation…right now." But Draco flew away before Harry could voice his confusion. It was ten minutes and ten points for each team before Malfoy ventured into Harry's earshot again.

"If you're trying to distract me from finding the Snitch, it won't work."

Draco snorted, "Shut up, Potter. I have _information_ for you."

Harry frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I know something that could save all of our lives."

Malfoy darted downward just then and Harry, in a panic, followed him, thinking he'd seen the Snitch. But Draco swooped skyward again, cackling. "Glad I have your attention, Potter, meet me over the Hufflepuff stands the next time Slytherin scores. And act normal! I don't want people to think we're actually being _civil_!" With that, Malfoy flew away, leaving Harry honestly wishing that Ron would screw up.

He did, but not for another twenty minutes. Harry hovered beside him before Madam Hooch could toss the Quaffle back in. "You feel all right?" Harry asked Ron, who was gasping for breath.

"Fine, Harry. Any sign of the Snitch yet?"

"Not a flutter." Harry was lying. He'd spotted a Snitch-shaped lump under one of the Ravenclaw banners that was crawling zigzags beneath the fabric. Harry knew that the only chance he could talk to Malfoy was during a Quiddich game. Even if they met at 3am in the empty halls there was still a chance of being overheard.

And he knew that any "information" Draco Malfoy had would undoubtedly be very valuable.

"Keep at it, Ron," Harry patted his best friend on the shoulder as play resumed. Malfoy was already at their meeting spot, his back to Harry.

"The only reason I'm telling you this, Potter," Malfoy said once Harry had drifted into earshot, "Is that you know the right people, you have no legal obligation to turn me in, and because you can give me something I want…Not to mention I know where you sleep, and who all of your loved ones are." Harry cringed. Ginny scored and flew up to slap Harry a high five.

"You know what Voldemort's up to."

"I merely know what his next move is."

"If he keeps you informed, why haven't you warned us before? About the Quiddich World Cup, about the biological weapon—"

"The Dark Lord updates my _mother_, Potter, I just happened to overhear a Death Eater in my fireplace during the summer."

"Tell me what you know."

"Costs first, Potter."

"What do you want?"

"My father back, freed and pardoned and left alone. I want you to talk directly to this weasel minister of yours."

"I can't guarantee that!" Harry watched the Snitch weave between pieces of grass. A voice that was definitely Hagrid yelled at Harry but he ignored him.

"Oh you will, Potter. This is worth it, that I can guarantee. And if you act without freeing my father, I'll tell the Death Eaters that the Ministry knows they're coming. The Aurors will be dead before they reach the water." Just then, Malfoy spotted the Snitch. Harry heard Hermione scream as Ginny was knocked off her broom only to be caught by Ron. Slytherin scored again.

"Let's both dive for it, but miss," Harry offered out of the corner of his mouth.

"I'll meet you at the South corner the next time there's a foul." Draco dived before Harry could nod.

"All right all right," Harry shouted at Draco a half-hour later, "I'll do what I can, now tell me."

"Let's just say, Potter," Draco didn't look at Harry. He ran his skinny fingers through his blonde hair and sighed. He looked skinnier in his green robes. "That whether the Ministry releases my father or not, he'll be free."

Harry froze in midair. He swallowed whatever had lodged itself in his throat that he had forgotten to chew.

"Azkaban."

"No shit."

"When? How?"

"I think that will cost extra, Potter—"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Throw the match, Potter, let me catch the Snitch."

"No way!"

"You'd consider letting a notorious Death Eater go free but hesitate about a little Quiddich game?"

Harry winced. For once, Draco Malfoy had a point.

"Fine. Just try not to take all bloody day!"

"Deal. Three weeks from Thursday: Midnight. They're going to free the Azkaban prisoners, using the dementors as their first wave of attack. Once all of the Auror guards are stuffed in the cells, or Kissed, Voldemort is going to use Azkaban to imprison whoever he captures. It might also serve as the Death Eater's headquarters." Malfoy twisted his broom up to look at Harry fully in Lily's green eyes. "Once Voldemort has a place to really settle down in and use as a rallying point and a dementor-guarded fort, then the war will truly begin." A blush of fury unlike Harry had ever seen in Draco's face before rose from chin to hairline. "Then nothing will ever be the same again, and there will be suffering, on both sides. Everyone, in one form or another, will suffer."

Draco grinned then, his usual, cocky smile that Harry was much more comfortable with as opposed to the serious Draco Malfoy he'd encountered anew in the past minute. "Thanks for the Snitch, Potter, I'll be sure to acknowledge your efforts when I'm holding the Cup…And I'll expect an Owl from my father within a week." Malfoy gave a mock salute, and was about to zoom into a lower level when Harry spoke up.

"Malfoy! Why are you helping us?"

It was a long moment. In the background, one of the Gryffindor Chasers scored, only to be nailed by a Slytherin Bludger. Malfoy had stopped in mid-air, his back to Harry. Another long moment was on the tail-end of the first before Malfoy heaved an uncharacteristic sigh and spoke barely loud enough to be heard.

"I'm not my father, Harry."


	12. The Battle for Azkaban

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Chapter 11_:

**The Battle for Azkaban **

"You two," counseled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and Hermione, "you stick close to Potter, all right?" – (4, 571)

Half of the audience fell asleep. It took three hours, about a hundred points per team, and Ron's nearly physical undoing before Malfoy _finally_ caught the Snitch and won the game.

The Gryffindor beaters proved their worth by using the Bludgers to knock the Snitch repeatedly out of Malfoy's reach. Harry didn't have to try hard to look disappointed. He'd spent the time contemplating everything Malfoy had said and dreading Arthur Weasley's facial expression that he feared his own downtrodden face was permanent. Nobody really blamed him, let alone even dared to consider that he'd lost on purpose. They whispered about the tough time he'd had lately, with losing a godfather and his best friend being sick and some other varieties of rumors about the famous Harry Potter's private life. Hermione reported much later that she'd overheard a group of Ravenclaw second years whispering about how he'd wrestled a giant and defended himself against a herd of centaurs the very morning before the match. The most difficult part for Harry, however, was not voluntarily allowing Malfoy to snatch that Snitch quite literally out from under his nose, but seeing the strain such a long match had on an increasingly weak Ron.

"Perhaps we should have try-outs for backup players," Ginny said faintly when she settled on the ground next to Harry, who had to reach out and steady her the minute her weight was off the broom. "Damn," she cursed in a tone that distinctly reminded Harry of Fred and George, "My legs are numb!" But she returned the soft smile Harry had offered, and patted his black hair as fondly as always.

Ron didn't even land on the ground but flew his broom into the locker room ahead of the Slytherin jeers and his tired teammates. Harry and Ginny entered a few minutes later and found Ron flat on his back on one of the benches. Alarmed, Harry was at his side in an instant, feeling guilty for his best friend's condition. But Ron opened his eyes at his name, and grinned, though half-heartedly when Harry demanded to know if he was ok.

"Better than you probably feel, mate. That was technically the first Snitch you've ever missed." Ron shrugged, a look of dawning realization crossing his flushed cheeks, "But actually, for the first time in my life…I don't give a damn about Quiddich."

Ginny giggled at that, but Harry caught the hidden meaning. He patted his friend's shoulder. "I don't think anyone can now." Harry suddenly heard Malfoy's abnormally sincere voice in his head: _Then nothing will ever be the same…_ Ginny had stopped laughing. Ron was frowning at him now. Harry sighed, and squeezed Ron's shoulder. "And that's too bad…"

Hermione was waiting for Ron and Harry, the last Gryffindors to leave, outside the locker room as the sun set behind her. "Let me see your hands," was the first thing she said when the two boys limped towards her. Ron, whose hands had been shoved into the pockets of his robes, kept them there until Hermione yanked his wrists out. Harry had to look away when he caught sight of what Hermione was studying. Even in the half-light, and despite the uniformed gloves, it was still plain that Ron's palms and knuckles were bruised.

"Geroff, Hermione," Ron was tired and irritated. He pulled his hands back, winced when he accidentally fisted them, and pocketed then before she could protest. "I just want to go to bed and not wake up until Monday's classes."

"Sorry, Ron, but the three of us are going up to the Astronomy tower." Harry blinked and Ron was about to complain when Hermione shot a significant look at the Seeker. "If I'm not mistaken, Harry needs to fill us in on whatever he and Malfoy talked about when they were supposed to be looking for that, that…winged…thingy."

A half hour later, Hermione was asking Harry the same question he'd posed to Malfoy, "Why the Hell is he helping us?"

Ron, who, despite a conversation about mortal peril, had been dozing off against the brick wall of the tower, suddenly sat up straight and quite alertly exclaimed, "Hermione, your cussing is getting out of hand!"

Hermione rolled her eyes while Harry relayed Malfoy's response. "Imagine that," Hermione muttered in wonder, "Who would've thought…"

"We sh-should probably owl Da-Dad tonight…huh?" Ron forced through a deep yawn. "Unless you want to tell him face to face that he should let Lucius Malfoy to waltz out of Azkaban." He shivered suddenly, and Harry could tell that his fever was up…again…

"That would be smarter," Hermione thought aloud, "He should come here. It might be dangerous telling him over the floo network or even with an owl, it could be intercepted."

"This will all be for nothing if they find out we know," Harry pointed out. He meant setting Lucius free. There was no way he'd tell them, Ron especially, that he'd let Slytherin win.

"So this could really be the beginning of the end? If they control Azkaban—we'll have to send a whole army of Aurors to even have half a chance against all those dementors! And if Lucius goes free…He'll try to kill you, Harry. You know he'll come after you first thing, after he kills Draco for helping you…"

It was a Hermione-like statement, but Ron's voice. Harry didn't see, only heard Hermione crawl the ten feet over to Ron and when he did look, it was just in time to see Ron place a tender kiss on Hermione's forehead. She closed her eyes and deepened the hug they were sharing.

-------

Three weeks later, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny were once again congregated in the Basement of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Harry sat at the far end of the table, Ginny on his left, Hermione on his right, Ron pacing in front of the spiral staircase. It was the first time in a month that Ron and Hermione were in the same room without stupid grins on their faces as they blushed at each other. The change was coming and Harry could feel it like a rainstorm. It was oddly comforting.

At least something was right with the world.

Harry looked down at his Watch. In the past hour, "RL" had migrated from "WWW" to "Hogwarts" to "Ministry of Magic" to "Atticus Forest," the haunted woods on the perimeter of the water Azkaban sat in the middle of. The Godfather Clock had yet to switch to "Mortal Peril" but Harry knew it was only a matter of time. And he desperately, very desperately longed for Remus Lupin's comforting presence.

Harry had told Arthur, Diggory and Dumbledore, who transported Lucius, secretly, to Malfoy Mansion, not two days after the tossed match. Draco had disappeared from school that day. He returned a week later with half-healed bruises across his jaw. Harry had stared at him from across the Great Hall and for a moment, Malfoy looked back and nodded, almost respectfully. Almost.

Everyone was gone. Without alerting the public, a team of Aurors had been assembled and placed strategically inside Azkaban, in the forest, spies within the ranks of the Death Eaters. The entire Order of the Phoenix was the first defense, planning to intercept the Death Eaters at their Apparation Touchdown point, a particular clearing in the woods that Kingsley Shacklebolt had bet his own legs on. Characteristically, Mundungus Fletcher took that bet, claiming that there was a warlock in Australia who would pay well to add another pair to his collection. Tonks and Remus had escorted the four students from Hogwarts to the joke shop, where the entire Weasley family had been waiting. They'd all gone to battle, including Fred and George, and Molly. Arthur, as well, though against Dumbledore's advice. The Minister insisted that he would not send anyone, let alone his children, to do what he was afraid to.

"I'm no more valuable than anyone else. If I'm sending people to fight, then I'm sending myself as well."

Harry had the utmost respect for Arthur Weasley, and for once, Ron was nothing but proud to be a Weasley. And now he was terrified.

How many more nights like this would they have?

Hermione looked down at her Watch for the fourth time that minute. Ron's pacing quickened. Ginny placed her chin on the table. Harry wondered how his father reacted to such suspense during the first war. Harry was wandering amongst thoughts of James and Lily when the sudden silence in the room caught his attention. Ron was standing still and looking at his Watch.

"Here we go, Harry."

Already knowing and fearing what he would read, Harry brought his own Godfather Clock up to his nose and adjusted his glasses. "RL" not only pointed at "Mortal Peril," but watery words splintered across like a play by play. The twins had activated the "Pick-Your-Nose" program.

"Dueling with a Death Eater…Running from a dementor…Tripping a giant…" Ginny scooted her chair closer to Harry and he leaned towards her so that she could read "Randomly chopping down a tree…oh, wait, it fell on a giant…" Harry found himself taking a silent inhale of Ginny's sleek red hair as she leaned against him to read. He half-expected some fruity or flowery aroma, but instead she smelled like old books and melted wax. Like Hogwarts. Ron had taken a seat beside Hermione and she laced her arm through his.

They sat like that, hours in the shadowy candlelight of the room, feeling like the place was hollow and swallowing them slowly…

"Thrown into the moat…conjured a Patronus…ducked into a cell…"

Harry felt a prickling sensation on his forehead and used his right hand to scratch his scar.

"Saved someone from an ambush…"

There was a sudden prick of fire against Harry's scar. Through it. And intense throb of pain made Harry simultaneously freeze and break into sweat. "Oh no…"

"Harry?" Ginny's voice and touch penetrated the overwhelming pain ricocheting across every nerve. The epicenter, that damn scar was striking lightning up and down its bolt-shaped skin. Harry was biting his tongue and both lips to keep from screaming, though his plan to not alarm his friends had failed. All three were on their feet.

Though he wanted to press both fists to his forehead, he kept the Watch in front of his eyes, which were swimming in darkness. He was so dizzy but when had he gotten to his feet? The Godfather Clock confirmed what he already knew:

"Dueling with _VOLDEMORT_!"

Harry gasped in agony. His senses were nearly indistinguishable, he couldn't breathe, couldn't stand up anymore—the pain was just too—

"HARRY!"

Ron's voice sounded far away. Harry knew his were fists grasping a maroon sweatshirt, but his sense of touch was numb. Harry sobbed. All he could do was stare into Ron's terrified eyes and repeat over and over "Voldemort's there, he's killing them, I can feel the pain he's causing, he's killing…" And then, as if it were possible, the pain increased a hundred fold, and Harry howled as he collapsed. Ron grabbed him and lowered him to the cement floor, twisting his legs to rest Harry's head on his knee.

And then Harry's arms fell limply to the floor. His voice cracked, choked and was lost. Ron and Hermione and Ginny's fearful faces went in and out of a fog, his continuing cries unheard by Harry's numb hearing. It was torture. The pain continued to lash but the intensity, and perhaps the rhythm was wrestling Harry into unconsciousness.

"Ron…" Harry gulped with a final conscious breath. He didn't know if Ron heard him, unsure if the word even came out. But Ron wasn't meeting his gaze but examining Harry's forehead. Before Harry slipped away he watched as Ron put his fingers above Harry's eyesight, and then drew them back. Ron looked from Harry's forehead to his red fingertips and back a half-dozen times.

His scar was _bleeding_.

-------

The smell of Hogwarts awoke Harry. No, just old books and melted wax and…blood?

Ginny. Ginny was beside him, and Harry wasn't in Hogwarts, he was lying on the floor just outside one of the Wizard space tents, in front of the fireplace, and there was blood near his nose, and Ginny Weasley.

"Harry."

His hearing came back magnified. Everything was so damn loud, except for Ginny's steady voice: gentle, beckoning…tired. He followed the smell and the voice until he reached closed eyes. When he opened them, Harry half-wished he was dead. The Battle for Azkaban was over, the Aurors and Phoenix members had returned…

Unsuccessful.

"Damn…" Harry muttered, wincing at the surreal sound and feeling of his own voice. The floor was warm but he was cold, and Harry was suddenly very aware that his head was in Ginny's lap. "What…"

"You collapsed a half-hour ago," came Ginny's tired voice from above him. She was stroking his hair. "They've been coming in and out since then. Your scar hasn't stopped bleeding yet, Harry, so don't sit up too quickly."

"Is Remus…?"

"He hasn't come back yet."

Colors came into view with the sound: light from the fireplace casting shadows over faceless soldiers crowded around Harry and Ginny, filling the headquarters with anxious voices. People dashed around or sat on the floor, unmoving bodies were lined on the oak library table, their faces covered with a single table cloth. Healing spells were being cast left and right; a few Aurors were yelling orders or yelling in pain. Anyone able to walk, no matter how many charred spell stains speckled their dirty robes, was helping with the wounded. The noise confused Harry but still he sat up. Ginny kept her hand on the bandage over Harry's scar that used to be Ron's sweatshirt. Harry blinked against the nausea of dizziness and blood loss and wondered if he was going into shock, wondered who could tell him what had happened, wondered where Remus was…

"Percy's dead."

Harry stared at her. "_What_?"

"He died," Ginny stated quite matter-of-factly. "Jumped in front of a Killing Curse that was aimed for Mum and Bill. Moody didn't make it either. And I think I heard Kingsley say that Mundungus Fletcher was Kissed by a dementor."

Harry felt sick. He followed Ginny's eyes to where red Weasley hair stuck out from under one of the cheery pastel tablecloths, unmoved by breathing. Ginny's pale face was blank. Harry wanted her to keep talking.

"Charlie got hit by Craticus," she continued to report in a Luna-like voice. "But he's ok. They're not sure what spell was used on Tonks but they haven't been able to wake her yet. A bunch of Aurors are dead, 36 so far, I think. But many people are still missing. Most of the Order isn't back yet.

Just then Hermione, her robes dusty and bloodied, ducked through the crowd and bent in front of Harry. She looked him over before embracing him so hard that more blood seeped through his scar. "I was so scared," she whispered with barely any emotion, "We thought Voldemort had found some way to kill you through your scar or something…"

"Have you heard—?"

"Dumbledore just got here," Hermione reported as she drew back and wiped her face. "I should find Ron and tell him you're ok—"

But down the spiral staircase came Albus Dumbledore, followed by Minerva McGonagall who had yet to lower her wand. Arthur Weasley stood from somewhere on Harry's left and the crowd parted respectfully to allow him to pass. But Harry didn't watch their exchange because just then someone else limped down the steps.

"REMUS!"

A huge grin blossomed across his godfather's face, and he limped over to Harry, fell to his knees and embraced him.

"Come on, Ginny," Harry heard Hermione whisper, "Let's go find your brother." Harry looked past Remus' shoulder to see Ginny nodding numbly and calmly following Hermione.

"What happened to you?" Remus demanded. Ron's sweatshirt had fallen into Harry's lap. Remus reached up and brushed his thumb across Harry's scar as tenderly as Mrs. Weasley. "I thought I was the one who went into battle!" Remus stared, thinking, for a moment and then sat back on his haunches. "Dumbledore was afraid the connection would work like that…"

"I need to block it somehow, Remus."

"We will, Harry, we'll figure it out."

"What happened to your leg?"

"Craticus. I dived out of the way but it still hit my knee."

"I'm glad you're all right."

"And I'm glad you are, not that I knew I needed to be worried. Has it ever bled before?"

"No. But Voldemort had yet to kill so many people personally. I didn't feel a prickle during the Cup. What happened, Remus? Do they have Azkaban?"

Remus sighed. "Completely. They knew we were coming. Not from Malfoy, Mundungus betrayed us. But we had them; we were doing fine at first. We could herd the dementors and other than that there were a just a few giants. But then Voldemort showed up…If Dumbledore hadn't been there, none of us would've survived." Someone called for Remus then. "I'd better go help."

"I should probably be with the Weasleys." Remus helped Harry stand, and then limped away towards the gathered Medi-wizards. Harry picked up Ron's blood-soaked sweatshirt and tossed it into the fire.

-------

The seven remaining Weasleys were crowded into George's bedroom. Charlie lay asleep on the bed, his back to Harry who stood with Hermione at the door. Ron was staring out the window at a dark Diagon Alley, his shoulders hunched. The twins stood on either side of the door just inside the room as grim sentinels, their heads bowed, fists clenched. Bill sat at the foot of Charlie's bed beside his mother. Molly held Charlie's limp, bruised hand in hers. Her hair was a wreck and there was a cut above her eye. But she held the same blankly numb look as Ginny did. The youngest Weasley sat at Molly's feet, clutching her mother's dirty robe and struggling against inevitable tears.

"Harry…Hermione…" Molly spoke into the silence. She didn't raise her eyes or let go of Charlie. "Come in, dears. You're family." Hermione immediately bolted across the room to Ron. Harry took a single step forward and stood silently just inside, rubbing some caked blood away from his scar. The room was eerily dark and smelled of stale dirt. Someone yelled downstairs and Harry shut the door. It sang as it closed, creaking the remaining light out, leaving just the moon. Charlie moaned in his sleep and rolled over. Molly brought her son's hand to her lips as he groaned in pain. Bruises had blackened Charlie's lips, under his eyes, at every joint of his arms and hands. Even in the pale light Harry could tell that he was a mess.

For a third time Charlie moaned, this time muttering, "Dad…Mum…Per-Percy…"

"Shhhh…" Molly soothed. Ginny squeaked and began to sob against her mother's knee. Bill sat down beside his little sister and Ginny crawled into his lap. Both Fred and George simultaneously sighed and shifted uncomfortably. Harry wiped his face across his sleeve.

Ron turned around then. Hermione stood at his side, looking afraid. Ron looked vulnerable as a silhouette in the moonlight. But when he raised his eyes to look at his best friend, Harry didn't see shock, grief or regret. What he saw worried Harry even more: Ron was angry. Hermione nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder but it was a moment before Ron even blinked. Ron drew Hermione to his chest.

"I'll die before I let them hurt anyone I love again." Harry heard Ron whisper. Hermione squeezed Ron tighter and Harry had to lean against the doorframe, suddenly weak in the knees. Molly began to hum just then, a grieving lullaby. And Harry held a silent vigil with the Weasleys for the remainder of the night, listening to Molly's humming, Charlie's mumbling, Ginny's crying, the yelling from downstairs, and watching the reflected moonlight on Ron's wet cheeks.

Just as the sun began to come up at dawn, it began to rain.


	13. That's Chess

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Chapter 12_:

**Author's Notes: **Boy, I am a bit over-dramatic, aren't I? Never fear, Ron's suffering has a reason (like everything else in this story does). Finally, we're getting to what the last 11 chapters have been for. The action has begun to rise!

**That's Chess**

"They've got…they've got _Ron_?"  
"The thing Harry Potter will miss most, sir!"  
–Dobby and Harry (4, 491)

"That's chess! You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me—that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!" –Ron (1, 283)

A (very eventful) week after Azkaban's capture and Percy's funeral, Harry Potter sat in the common room with his broomstick balanced on his lap and as he shined it in a single motion from tip to tip, over and over until the rhythm was nearly therapeutic. Hermione lay on her stomach in front of Gryffindor's fireplace with a book under her nose and elbows under her chin. Ron and Ginny had scooted two couches towards the center table where a chess board sat. Ron looked abnormally tired for Harry's taste, an observation that appeared fact for Hermione, who looked up from her book at the sound of clinking chess pieces not with her usual glare, but badly disguised anxiousness. The common room was congested but not noisy and after a mere half hour, a single word turned every Gryffindor head.

"Checkmate."

It was Ginny's voice. Not Ron's, Ginny. Hermione froze in shock but Harry found his voice, "You beat him!"

"I just got lucky this time, Ron," Ginny said. She was obviously struggling not to rub a triumphant grin in his face, the right of any baby sister. Meanwhile the chess pieces were applauding Ginny while the dismembered white ones were dancing in their piles at Ron's elbow.

Harry was about to exclaim "You beat _him_" but there was an odd look on Hermione's face that when followed led to an even more disconcerting look on Ron's. To the untrained, non-best-friend's eye, Ron looked disappointed at losing. But Harry knew that something was wrong, very wrong, and Hermione was on her feet in front of Ron who, Harry noticed, was really quite pale.

"Ron? What is it?"

It took a moment for Ron to show any sign that he heard his name and when he did look up his eyes were unfocused. For a second he made a valiant attempt at joking his way out as usual, even managed to force a smile. Lastly Ron got dizzily to his feet and was heading for the tower stairs before Harry or Hermione could reach out to steady him.

Ginny winced as Ron weaved his way through, grasping extra hard at the stair railing as if he was struggling to pull himself through the gravity. "Do you think he's mad—"

"No," Hermione interrupted, "Something's wrong." She shared a look with Harry who immediately traced Ron's beeline through the other students, leaving Hermione behind as he took the steps two at a time towards the boy's dormitory. He ran into Ron a mere dozen steps below their room. Ron was staring at the open doorway as if it were the crest of Mt. Everest and trembling as if he were really that cold. Wordlessly Harry grabbed his best friend by the elbow and Ron gratefully allowed him to pull some of the weight.

"I'm ok," Ron muttered between shaky breaths, answering Harry's question before he could ask, "I'm just…a little dizzy…tired…"

"You've been a little dizzy and tired ever since Neville stuck that needle in you. I don't care what the Medi-witches say, that's what's making you sick," Harry noted aloud. Ron teetered a bit but Harry pushed him upstairs step by step, Harry bracing himself against the wall and Ron managing to bend his legs. When they got to the door, Ron had his arms around Harry's chest and Harry could feel the heat radiating from Ron's forehead as it bobbed limply. As they passed through the door, Ron's left arm fell numbly to the side.

"Harrr," Ron breathed, his eyes closed, "Idonfeelgood…"

"I gotcha Ron," was all Harry could offer, his strength fueled by panic as he dragged Ron to the nearest bed. With a grunt of effort, Harry slipped his arm under Ron's knees and shoulders and hoisted him onto the four-poster. Ron's head lolled from the impact but he used his remaining strength to meet Harry's eyes which lined up with his as he kneeled beside the bed. "Are you all right?" The candlelight in the room swelled and sunk, creating shadows that filled the wrinkles of Ron's face.

Ron blinked half-way, the dullness of his eyes scaring Harry even more. After a moment he nodded. He nodded "no."

Harry leapt to his feet and stuck his head out the dormitory door. His call seemed to echo throughout the castle, "HERMIONE!"

Harry glanced back in time to hear Ron whimper his name right before he slid into unconsciousness.

-------

"Harry, Hermione, you can come in now."

Locking eyes and holding hands, Harry and Hermione rose and tiptoed into Hogwarts' hospital wing. Expecting to see Madam Pomfrey, they came up short of surprise when it was Dumbledore who met them before they reached Ron's bed. Harry didn't think it was possible for their headmaster to look older.

Dumbledore, lacking his usual composure, sat un-ceremoniously on the end of Ron's bed. He motioned, without looking up from where he seemed to be staring at nothing, for his two students to sit across from him. Harry always felt intimidated around the headmaster but for once, Dumbledore appeared quite fragile.

Still grasping hands so tightly that their fingers were pearl-shaded, Harry helped Hermione sit and then he sat beside her. Dumbledore breathed in and out, forcing the action to sound steady. Slowly, he extended his arms and took each hand that wasn't already connected. Hermione couldn't stop the shiver that ran up her forearm when the elderly wizard passed a bony thumb across her knuckles. She squeezed Harry's hand tighter as Dumbledore began to speak, a faint, comforting smile on his lips.

"I must contact the Weasleys, and the Ministry with all we know about this…biological weapon." He glanced back at the bed before continuing, "Ronald can explain things for himself." He squeezed their hands once more and Harry felt a chill as Dumbledore slowly walked out of the dark hospital wing.

Ron was propped up on his elbows behind where Dumbledore had sat. He looked feverish but alert. He smiled at his best friends, "I've got bad news."

The tension was thick and Harry attempted to crack it. "What are you dying or something?" he joked. He waited for Ron to crack a smile, laugh at Harry's melodrama, say he just had to flu. Harry waited.

And waited.

He suddenly wanted to grab Ron by the arm.

"Wh—What?" Hermione whispered.

Ron blinked. "Yeah…" The word was exhaled slowly. "Sorry."

Reality hit a dozen speed bumps and when Harry could finally refocus, everything—every breath, angle, eyelash, was different.

"You're dying?"

Ron nodded. "I'm dying, Harry," he shrugged.

Hot tears snuck out of Harry's eyes and rolled to the corners of his lips. Ron stared at them, he didn't look away in embarrassment, didn't aim humor to lessen the tension. Harry didn't even bother to sniffle.

"Harry…" Now Ron did look down. "…I shouldn't matter this much to you…"

-------

Hermione stormed out of the hospital wing without looking back or waiting for Harry to catch up to her. After unsheathing her wand for barely a reason, she burst into Hogwarts' deserted library, not caring that it was early in the morning and she had probably awakened a quarter of the castle. Harry was right behind her, muttering her name, asking her what she was doing. But he knew not to stop her, not to stand in her way. The news they'd just received about Ron was devastating and nothing mattered other than him. Everything else wrong with their lives was suddenly in the background. The last thing Harry was worried about was losing House points for violating curfew.

Hermione was mumbling to herself. "I, I have to find…something! Something magical to fix this! A spell, a potion, anything that will save him. We can look up other cases; see how this similar diseases have been cured before not that there have been other wizard biological weapons but we might find something St. Mungo's missed—" She began Summoning books, candles, quills and parchment left and right.

"Hermione, _Hermione_!" Harry slammed a book in her hands down onto a table. "Hermione this isn't a curse, it's a disease! We can't help him! If St. Mungo's can't help him how can we?"

_Oh_, the look she gave him…

-------

Harry Potter hadn't realized that it was possible to not only have your nose physically buried in a book, but the entirety of your attention, energy and determination. However, the necessity of sleep was equally distracting. He hadn't been asleep by 3am since Azkaban was taken. Lately, as tired as he was, he was barely able to get any sleep and judging by Hermione's restlessness, she was the same if not worse. And even trying to imagine that the red hair protruding from beneath Ron's covers was not Bill or Charlie's head but in fact his best friend's had the opposite effect from comforting Harry.

Every morning after he rolled over and slid his glasses into their familiar place on his face, Harry, out of habit looked at Ron's bed. And now that the oldest Weasley siblings had been sleeping in the Gryffindor dorm, Harry's heart would double its speed while the volume of it increased tenfold every time Harry opened his eyes and assumed his best friend was right there, well and safe.

One morning he woke up to find a House-elf peeking between his curtains. Harry slept with his wand now and he raised it instinctively at the pointed nose before realizing who it was.

"Harry Potter looks sad," Dobby whispered in his high-pitched whimper. "Dobby went to change the linens in the hospital wing last night and saw that…that Harry Potter might…lose his Wheezy?" Dobby pointed to tears that Harry didn't know were there.

But tonight, or rather, this morning, Harry wasn't even in his bed but the Gryffindor common room. The only thing keeping him from passing out from exhaustion right onto the cluttered table was the knowledge that Hermione was still awake and would undoubtedly holler at him if he showed a sign of putting anything as a higher priority than researching how to cure Ron. So Harry, not wanting to have his hopes catapulted and then drowned at the sight of a redhead in the bed next to his (no matter how many times it happened, he could never seem to instantly remember that it was Bill), forced his eyes to read the words on the pages he forced his fingers to turn.

Hermione sighed, tied her hair back and rubbed her eyes. "I don't understand. I must've read every book in the library. I haven't found anything. Why would it not even hit him this hard until now? Why did they bother if it doesn't work quickly…Why can't they _fix_ this, Harry?"

"What's the update on the list of symptoms?"

"Well the pain got worse today…fever of course. He's still coughing up blood and…There are headaches, he hasn't eaten in days, he keeps slipping deeper into sleep...His heart rate is slowing for some reason…The question is still why it didn't get this bad until now…Why can't _I_ fix this…"

"It's a disease, we can't explain it…Like Hagrid said, and some things can't be fixed with Magic. You're the most intelligent person I know—"

She snorted, "What's the point of being at the top of my class if—"

"This is unbearable."

Hermione nodded. She'd been waiting for him to say that for days. She swallowed, put her hands on her lap, and nodded again. "Yes, it is. For me too." She looked at Harry unblinkingly, waiting, aware that there was more to that statement than the fact that his best friend was dying. Hermione waited patiently for Harry to speak and when he did his own voice sounded unfamiliar it was so husky and thick. He leaned back in his chair and took a breath.

"Every death that I've known, witnessed, has been a murder. They were sudden and I'm finally at peace that there was nothing I could do at the time. But this…Ron's death is inevitable, and it's slow, and he's suffering…and I have to watch and helplessly wait for him to die…This is worse than seeing a murder…and it's Ron, it's _Ron_."

Hermione looked about to say something when suddenly the Fat Lady's portrait flew open and crashed into the wall behind her. The jolt woke the portrait up in the middle of a deep snore and she immediately started sputtering "Who opened me without a password, how—"

Harry leapt to his feet as Remus Lupin and Arthur Weasley dashed towards the two Gryffindors.

"He's back," Arthur gasped at them before he aimed his wand at the staircase leading to the girls' dorm and sped up to find Ginny.

"Who—"

"What—"

"Snape's here," Remus panted, "and he has Wormtail." Lupin ushered Harry and Hermione out.

"Great, let's feed that rat to Buckbeak!" Harry muttered as they went.

"You broke my _hinge_!" squawked the Fat Lady.

-------

Ron's illness had dragged him into a coma.

Snape, Dumbledore and Lupin strolled into the crowded hospital wing as if they were walking onto a stage. Arthur and Molly Weasley looked like they were about to tackle them if they didn't explain themselves soon. They talked with Madam Pomfrey in hushed voices for several long moments but all Harry could overhear was that Snape had apparently gotten close enough to Voldemort, and threatened Wormtail enough to get the antidote. Harry found himself impressed. Finally, Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey, who'd scribbled notes down on a parchment Snape had brought with him, came back to join the Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys.

"He needs a transfusion to get the liquefied Imperius Curse out, so we'll need that Muggle contraption and Professor Snape's potions," Poppy ran her palm across Ron's forehead in an uncharacteristic attempt at bedside manner, "There was basilisk venom, Mandrake juice and diluted Imperius curse in that injection. The Imperius is controlling his heart rate, his organ functions…slowly controlling and destroying all of his cells. Ronald needs a complete blood transfusion with Phoenix tears, blood from a salamander and a Chinese Fireball, and some wizard chocolate as soon as possible. I must consult the Book." Poppy practically flew past Harry and disappeared into her office where books echoed from the impact of swatting them to the floor. Snape nodded briefly at Arthur before leaving for his office to start brewing the antidote.

Hermione threw her hands into the air and in a very Ron-ish tone exclaimed "The book of what? What's going on?" Poppy was mumbling in the background as she dug through another shelf. Bill, Charlie, the twins and Ginny all watched everyone in silence. Hermione was about to promote herself to a shriek when Dumbledore finally stepped forward.

"The Book, Miss Granger, has no name. It's blank, you ask if for information and it provides it." Hermione looked positively delighted for half a moment before a look at Ron reeled her back into reality. "I believe Poppy has a medical Book for such an occasion as this. We need to know what wizard has the blood that Ron needs."

"Ha!" Madam Pomfrey emerged and sailed to Ron's bedside where she propped the Book, which consisted of only a front and back cover, against the Weasley's legs. "I solemnly swear that I am up to good."

Lupin, Harry and the twins did a double take.

"Show me the current list of compliant blood types, wizards only." To Harry's astonishment, pages began to bloom from the elongating spine of the book until the covers expanded out an entire half-foot, thin pages with lists of names sprouting until full. "W, W, W, W-e, W-e-a…" The Nurse disappeared into the pages.

"Would someone please explain what the bloody hell is happening?" _Charlie's voice sure sounds like Ron's_, Harry thought to himself. His heart ached. Would he ever hear his friend's voice again…?

"When a blood transfusion is necessary for a wizard, and it rarely is with our medical abilities, the process is highly complicated and unusual," Dumbledore began, "So much so that we don't even have the necessary equipment here, and not even at St. Mungo's, not that I would prefer for Ron to be sent there anyways…but we do have a couple Wizards who have chosen to remain Muggles and have grown up to become doctors and we therefore turn to them when this needs done. Remus," Dumbledore turned to Lupin who straightened obediently, "We may need you to contact your brother."

Remus nodded and his voice had heightened in pitch when he spoke, "Yes, headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded back with thanks. "This book magically updates itself everyday with the list of blood compliance. Wizard blood is far more complicated than Muggle. We're all the same "type" as they would say, but with compliancy we're paired up. Only one wizard alive at one time can accept the blood of another wizard. And if Ron's blood partner is deceased—"

"Ah HA!" Poppy stomped her foot but her shoe barely made a sound. "Weasley! Yes yes yes let's see let's see now…Bilius… Molly…Ronald! Ronald and—" Madam Pomfrey's tongue seemed suddenly paralyzed. She let the Book drop back against the bed covers as she stared at the name, jaw unhinged.

"Poppy," Dumbledore softly spoke, "Whose name did you find?" But she began to back away. Dumbledore took a step towards her and nearly got run over by Molly who'd bolted from the opposite end of Ron's bed and snatched the Book. Her face fell to the ground and bounced away when her eyes flitted over the name. Slowly she raised her eyes, and met Harry's. She too was speechless from shock.

Finally, Arthur stepped forward and looked past his wife's shoulder. Harry could tell by the pacing of his eyes that he was rereading the name over and over. After yet another long moment, Harry felt he was about to burst when Arthur unleashed an unbearably loud sigh. And then he cleared his throat, and read.

"The blood of the last son of the Weasley line, Ronald, a Pureblood of Light, is matched with the last son of one of the Purebloods of Darkness..."

Harry was on his tiptoes with anticipation, ready to dash out of the hospital wing and _siphon_ Draco Malfoy himself. Arthur drew in another deep breath, and spoke the name directly at Harry instead of reading it from the page.

"_Sirius Black_."

-------

Harry Potter wasn't sure how he'd ended up on his knees, but whatever had pushed him down refused to let him back up again. So he shrugged to himself and allowed his upper body to continue to the stone floor, thankful for the distraction of the pain. The next thing he knew, Madam Pomfrey merely whispered a word and he could sit up. No one had moved to catch or lift him, too stunned, rooted by shock. Ron's semi-steady breathing in the background was the only sound. Harry was convinced he couldn't breathe, and Hermione was devastated all the more. Ginny and her brothers remained scattered around the room, their heads drooped with hopelessness. Bill Weasley, his face solid stone, didn't bother to scrunch his cheeks against a tear that tiptoed down from the corner of his eye. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Arthur, Molly and Lupin, however, simply kept eye contact with each other. It was Harry who broke the silence.

"So it's over then. Sirius is dead, and no one else can give Ron blood." In the back of his mind it occurred to him that his voice actually sounded like Sirius' straight out of Azkaban.

"Not quite."

The Weasley children, Harry and Hermione pivoted their eyes to Dumbledore. The other adults lowered their eyes to the floor. The spark in Dumbledore's eyes was rekindled. He was about to speak again when Remus spoke up.

"Perhaps it would be wise, Headmaster," Lupin muttered without raising his eyes, "To not get their hopes up."

"Or perhaps it would be right, not only wise," Arthur countered. He looked straight at Harry. "To tell Harry the truth about his godfather."

Harry's legs were numb but he managed to pull himself up to stand as he looked to Lupin, "Tell me what, Remus, tell me what about Sirius." Lupin brought both palms to his closed eyes.

"Harry," Dumbledore spoke, "The Book never lies. And it only lists those who are still alive. If Ron's blood partner were dead there would just be a blank space…Harry, you must understand that there are reasons why we didn't tell you before. And you must understand that we didn't tell you for your own good, that there was a very, very slim chance that Sirius might still…be…There was very little hope and we didn't think of a way to find out. We didn't tell you to spare you the pain of knowing your godfather is alive and being tortured with not hope of rescue—"

Harry took a step forward as if he wanted to throttle someone but wasn't sure who. "Are you telling me," he said with a harsh voice he normally reserved for a Malfoy, "Is that bloody Book telling us…that Sirius isn't dead?"

Lupin sat down on the bed across from Harry.

Dumbledore had never been so pale. He looked almost scared of Harry. And then he nodded yes, down up down up down up…

"Oh my word…" Hermione breathed. She sat down next to Lupin. To their left, Arthur took Molly's hand and squeezed it. On Harry's right, Ron muttered in his sleep, something about shaving Moaning Myrtle's hair off. Fred and George simultaneously snickered in an attempt to alleviate the tension, but Harry barely noticed. A solid five minutes went by.

"Remus," Remus didn't raise his head at Dumbledore's voice. He was rocking forward and back, his face still in his hands. "Remus, please contact Evander."

"Albus, we can't get him out of the Detainment Veil," Molly whispered regrettably.

"There has to be a way." Dumbledore's voice aimed at Harry again, "I've learned to not just expect miracles, but rely on them." The room silenced, and Harry could feel every single individual pair of eyes on him, yet the invisible weight of their stares did nothing to burden him.

In his life, Harry James Potter had felt pain and anger, joy, guilt, excitement and frustration, helplessness and hate and defiance and regret and relief and the deepest purest _strongest_ love...

But for the first time in all his 16 years, Harry Potter felt absolutely _nothing_.

Somehow being told in a matter of hours that his best friend was going to die and that his godfather was still alive balanced or canceled out everything else.

Harry was numb, body, heart and soul.

"Tell me how." This time, Harry's voice sounded not unlike Tom Riddle's. "Tell me _why_."


	14. The Detainment Veil

**The Man Who Lives**

By: PenPatronus

_Chapter 13_:

**The Detainment Veil**

"But there can't be anything worse than the _Avada Kedavra_ curse, can there?" said Ron. "What's worse than death?" – (5, 100)

"We both know there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom…Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit—"

"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!"

"You are quite wrong."

-Dumbledore and Voldemort (5, 814)

"The thing about growing up with Fred and George," said Ginny thoughtfully, "is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve." – (5, 655)

"You said he was dead. You told me! Right there in the Chamber!" Harry reminded Remus.

"Actually, I didn't." Remus couldn't look Harry in the eye.

"You did so!" Harry sounded exasperated. "You said he can't come back because he's dead!"

"No, I was trying to say he can't come back because he's _detained_! "Detained" is the technical word for what happens when you're stuck in the Detainment Veil, you said he was dead and I just didn't deny it…"

Harry's jaw dropped and he stared at his godfather. "You…let me think Sirius was dead, you didn't bother to correct me—"

"Harry he IS dead!" Remus sputtered. "Or he practically is. And even if he isn't we have no way of getting him out of the Veil so he'll die in there anyway. I didn't want to get your hopes up that there's a chance because in all honesty, there isn't!"

"But Bellatrix Lestrange said—"

"I told everyone else that Sirius was dead too, except for Dumbledore and Arthur and Moody, who with his eye could see inside the Veil that Sirius was in there and still alive, barely, but we all knew there's no way to get him. We knew you'd go after him if you thought he was alive—"

"I'll find a way." It was Hermione. She looked at Harry. "We'll find a way."

-------

The library was deserted except for two sleep-deprived Gryffindors who hadn't even eaten that day.

Hermione suddenly stood straight up and brought a book to her nose. "Harry, here it is! Listen to this!" Her voice was muffled by the pages she was reading. "One of the biggest Mysteries in the Department is known as the Detainment Cloak or Veil. Revealed by captured Death Eaters to be a sort of torture jail in Wizard Space, the Veil's prisoners become immortal once entrapped. Rumored to be feared even more than the Dementor's Kiss, the Veil forces its occupants to act out their worst nightmares and memories. Since You-Know-Who's downfall, Unspeakables have attempted to free the innocents imprisoned in the Veil. Many Aurors and members of the mysterious faction, the Order of the Phoenix, are supposedly trapped in there, starving, in pain and torture, but unable to die. The Veil was specifically created for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's enemies who could use Wandless Magic and were therefore uncontainable in normal prisons. The only Unspeakable to experiment with and attempt to open the Detainment Veil was Lucille Lovegood, who was convinced that the only way to free the innocent prisoners inside was to simply go in after them, wand (and unicorn horn) in hand. Though widely criticized, Mrs. Lovegood's research remains ground-breaking in Department of Mysteries theory. Unfortunately when Mrs. Lovegood attempted an experiment to apply her theory by opening and entering the Veil by herself, she tried her own concocted spell to open it and was killed in front of her husband and their 9-year-old daughter…" There's an appendix with her research," Hermione informed him. She flipped to the back of the book and Harry moved to read over her shoulder.

"The Detainment Veil, magically sewn from a dementor cloak and a Lethifold, was invented by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to imprison the enemies he wanted to torture rather than kill." After they'd finished reading, Harry sat back down and folded his hands in his lap. "Should we talk to her?"

Hermione motioned him towards the door right then. "We have to."

-------

"Luna?"

The head that popped up from under the table in greenhouse three appeared to be nothing but eyes. Harry and Hermione both took a step back in surprise but Luna blinked through the huge goggles strapped to her face and then lowered them. "One of Dad's investor's latest inventions," she shrugged in explanation. "Improves my vision, hand-writing, and it clears the sinuses." Silence stretched for a long moment between them all before Luna finally put the goggles down and swallowed. "How's Ronald?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks. Hermione cleared her throat, "Not well." Luna looked at Hermione. She studied her for a moment and then nodded mutely.

"Do you need something?" Luna brought up a stool and sat stroking the leaves of her Herbology project. Hermione simply placed the Department of Mysteries book wide open on the desk. Luna looked at it for merely a second before she reached for the goggles again and whispered, "I really have a lot of homework to do, if you'll excuse me—"

"Luna. Luna, please." Hermione laid her hand firmly on Luna's. "Please. This is important. We need to talk to you, for Ron's sake."

Luna blinked and there were suddenly soft tears in her abnormally wide eyes. "I was young when my mother died." She looked at Harry. "I don't remember much. And last year when I saw the Veil again, though I barely remember it…seeing it was almost too much…" Harry shifted nervously and she fixed her eyes on him again. "You did hear the ones my mother wanted to free, didn't you Harry? They're there, my Mum always told me, just behind…" her voice faded.

"Luna why didn't you tell us?" Harry demanded, "Why didn't you tell us last year that you knew what that thing was?"

"It wasn't important when we first saw it….And later I heard that your godfather was trapped inside it and I didn't want to get your hopes up, Harry, because I know what you want but you can't—"

Hermione sat on another stool, keeping contact with Luna's hand. "Luna, we need to get Sirius out of the Veil, or Ron will die. I know, it's hard…but we need your help."

Luna looked back and forth at them for a long moment. Finally she turned the book towards her and flipped through the pages, landing on a diagram of the Veil.

-------

Remus Lupin entered the Gryffindor dormitory with someone Harry and Hermione had never met before. "Harry, I got your owl, it sounded urgent," Remus moved towards his godson who got up from next to Hermione on the couch. Harry stared at the stranger who smiled back at him. Remus pivoted towards the other man, "Harry, Hermione, I'd like you to meet my brother, Evander Lupin. Evan, this is my godson, Harry Potter."

Evander's eyes flickered to Harry's scar for less than a second. He stepped forward with an outstretched hand and shook Harry's. "Nice to meet you." He appraised Harry for a moment before looking back at Remus, "You're right, he does look like James…Lily's eyes, though."

"I knew you had a crush on her your fourth year!" Remus folded his arms and grinned at his brother.

"Did not."

Evander Lupin reminded Harry of a combination between Hagrid and Bill Weasley, though he remained, obviously, Remus' younger, but gray-haired, brother. He had a chubbier, warm face, but his eyes looked sharp and alert but pleasantly relaxed. While Remus always looked tired, Evander stood up straight but shy and was dressed in Muggle clothes of jeans with a black-hooded sweatshirt. Remus explained that Evander was a wizard, a doctor who chose to live as a Muggle, and he had a practice in London. He'd brought Muggle equipment to Hogwarts to work with the Medi-witches.

"Not even magic is as good as a basic stethoscope sometimes," Evander chuckled. "I think the rest of the Weasley family left for Diagon Alley now, so I'd better go check on Ron," he said when it was obvious that Harry had something privately urgent to tell his godfather.

"Do you have the Polyjuice Potion?" Remus asked him.

Evander pointed to a front pocket of his jeans, "Sure do. Who am I this time?"

"Evan, I didn't put a little girl's hair in it, I swear. Solemnly."

Evander smiled at Harry and Hermione, patted Remus fondly on the shoulder and he left through the portrait hole he said "I hope you told Harry that I was the one who came up with the password for the Marauder's Map!" He grinned as he left and Remus rolled his eyes affectionately.

"He doesn't like to be seen in the Wizarding World," Remus explained with a shrug. "So. What did you want to talk to me about?"

As one, Harry and Hermione burst into explanation of their conversation with Luna, all they had learned about the Veil in the past few days, and about their plan.

"Wh—What? Oh no." Remus all but shouted, his voice rising in pitch as he went. "No no no no _no_!"

"Remus—"

"NO!" He was furious.

"Remus I have to risk this!" Harry pointed to Hermione who sat still on the common room couch. "We have a plan! We researched everything there is to know about that Veil and now I'm going in there!"

"I'm going with you, Harry."

He rounded on Hermione, "No. You're not."

She stood up, "Yes I am and you can go to _Hell_ if you try to tell me differently one more time!"

"Hermione—"

"I _love_ him, Harry."

"I love Ron too, Hermione, but—"

"Harry, I'm _IN_ LOVE WITH _RON_! You hear me?"

Both Remus and Harry froze. "Wh—What did you say?"

"If being in love with him isn't a good enough reason to risk my life…"

"You're in love with him?"

"Yes, and I'm going with you."

"No, you're not! Neither of you are or come the next full moon, I'll bite you!" Remus bellowed and Hermione shushed him in a motherly way considering it was past one in the morning. "We are dealing with a Dark device created by Voldemort himself! Unspeakables have been working to understand it since the first war ended, so how is it that a couple of kids have figured everything out in the past few hours? I know people who are in there! Sirius, Caradoc Dearborn, Dorcas Meadowes…You are not risking your life on some half-baked idea! Everyone who goes into that thing doesn't come out!" Remus took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. "You're not going in—"

"YES I AM!" Harry yelled. He kicked the couch and Hermione backed away from him. "My best friend is dying! Your best friend is in that Veil, alive, but he won't be for long if we just leave him there!" Harry lowered his voice a notch to keep from waking the entire House. He pulled out his trump card. "Think, Remus. What if you were in my place? What if my mum was dying and Sirius was in there. You'd dive into that Veil with a quarter-baked plan!"

"Harry—" Hermione squeaked. Lupin was staring at Harry in a defeated sort of way.

"Harry, if you to into the Veil, you won't come out. What will Hermione do without either of you? How are we supposed to kill Voldemort without you? You're damning the entire world!" Apparently Lupin had found out about the Prophecy…Harry wondered what Hermione was thinking.

"If I didn't have Ron or Sirius," Harry muttered between clenched teeth, "I wouldn't care about anything, let alone my own death, or anyone else. _I _am damned without Ron. _I'm not the salvation of this world, he makes me be_. So I am going into that Veil, and I'm getting my godfather back, and I will force Ron to live if it kills me!'

Harry whirled away from both of them and did a lap around the room before sputtering out, "You know, you know what…" He threw his hands up in the air. "I'm going to bed. And I swear, tomorrow I'm going to chuck House-elves into the Veil until it's so full that Sirius pops right out!" Harry stormed up the stairs and out of Remus and Hermione's sight.

-------

At 4:00 that very morning, a shadow opened the door of the Sixth year's room, tiptoed down the Gryffindor stairs and into the Common Room. In front of the fireplace, an Invisibility Cloak trickled carelessly to the floor as a hand withdrew a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Inflatable Fireplace black robes. Harry Potter passed his wand over the IF, traced the three Ws and stood before the twins' creation for a moment, listening for anyone who might've heard his descent. He passed his wand over the IF one last time, double-checking that it would take him to the right place.

Finally Harry closed his eyes, stepped into the IF and disappeared.

From the stairwell, Hermione Granger waited until Harry was gone before emerging. The IF had folded back into a single brick and lay lopsided on the carpet. She picked it up, traced the letters, and without a bit of hesitation, disappeared through it. The IF fell back to the floor.

Not a moment later, someone else emerged from behind the Gryffindor couch near the fireplace, and followed both Harry and Hermione to the Department of Mysteries.


	15. Resurrection of the Black Star

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Chapter 14_:

**Author's Notes: **Important chapter? Yes, quite. He's alive, and here's why.

**Resurrection of the Black Star**

"This is how it is—this is why you're not in the Order—you don't understand—there are things worth dying for!" –Sirius (5, 477)

-------

The sway of the black Detainment Veil was almost a beaconing wave. It was hypnotizing, sitting calmly up there on the dais. Harry Potter stepped away from the Inflatable Fireplace—

-and fell flat on his face, his wand clattering across floor the Death Chamber.

Petrificus Totalus, though a perfectly effective curse, still allowed the victim's lungs to breathe, his heart to beat, and eyes to see. The pair of tennis shoes that came into focus in front of Harry's nose was familiar and Harry's unfrozen insides somersaulted. A spell flipped him onto his back where he looked up at Hermione, the Veil fluttering in the background. The fierce look on her face was one of anger and sadness. She glanced over her shoulder and there were tears on her cheeks when she turned back around. Harry couldn't have yelled if he was free to.

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered. "But when Ron and I were in your Pensieve, we saw one memory that we didn't tell you about." Suddenly, in a wrench of realization, Harry knew which one. His eyes clouded, the Binding Spell keeping the tears from falling. "We know about the _Prophecy_, Harry. And I will not let you damn the world by getting yourself killed." Harry expected her to levitate him back through the IF, scolding him as they went, lecturing, disciplining. But Hermione's tears abruptly vanished, clouded by determination. In a whisper she hissed, "Ron…isn't worth _your_ life, Harry…But he is worth mine."

Without another blink Hermione Granger turned on her heel and marched right into the Veil, where she disappeared.

Harry attempted to call for her for several minutes until his own silence reminded him of his Wandless powers. Harry relaxed, breathed, concentrated on his finger tips, felt his internal magic pulsing to be unleashed. When the spell finally broke, Harry leapt to his feet and immediately lunged for the Dais—

-and fell again.

"Bloody _Hell_!"

A whiplash of magic laced Harry's veins and sucked out every splinter of energy until Harry was so weak that all he could bring himself to do was breathe. When he forced open his waterlogged eyes, his godfather stood over him.

"Sorry Harry," said Remus Lupin, looking nearly apologetic. "Since I taught you so well, all I can do is make sure you can't concentrate on your powers. You'll fall asleep soon and awake in a few hours. Sirius can wake you up when we get him out." Remus sighed and turned to the dais. "Hermione's in there?" Harry opened and closed his eyes in a nod when Remus glanced down at him. Remus had a look on his face that Harry could only describe as "funny." "Harry…" Remus turned his back again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Sirius, and I'm sorry I couldn't be what you need. You need Sirius, and you need Ron, and Hermione. I want what's best for you, Harry, because I love you as I loved James, and Lily…and this is what's best." Remus climbed the stairs of the platform and stopped inches from the Veil.

"You're more than my godson, Harry, you're a godsend."

When Remus also disappeared through the Veil Harry let out a sob that echoed so loudly the Veil fluttered in the breeze.

Consciousness was drifting further and further from Harry as the minutes of waiting continued. He didn't know how long it was before Harry blinked, and suddenly, like from a dream,

Sirius Black —

-was chucked out of the Dementor cloak to land beside him on the floor. And then Hermione was there, standing over them, her clothes dirty and looking exhausted, both with a Ron-ish grin and a look of weak relief, before she crumpled to the floor next to Sirius.

The last thing Harry's consciousness registered was the banshee yell of a tortured werewolf.

Remus was gone.

-------

Someone was holding his hand, and he could feel the love throbbing like a heartbeat. "Harry," the voice beckoned, "Harry wake up, son." A red fog was gradually focusing in to a hazy picture of Molly Weasley. Harry blinked, and found that he didn't have the energy to blink. Molly was smiling at Harry as if he were a newborn. The only other time Harry had ever seen her grin like that was when Ron got his Prefect badge.

Ron…

Harry choked on his own inhale and sat up so quickly that he nearly toppled out of the hospital bed. Molly caught him as if she'd been expecting such a movement. The infirmary was only lit by a few candles floating above the bed across from Harry. Harry allowed Molly to embrace him securely while he tried to focus on the scene in front of him. Mrs. Weasley twisted to follow his eyes, and sighed against Harry's temple.

"They're all right, Harry." Molly reassured him. "Everything's going to be fine. It's over now, it's all over."

Harry squinted; his glasses weren't on his nose.

Ron lay where Harry had last seen him: flat on his back in a bed that was too small for his long legs. Ron's left arm stuck out at a 90 degree angle from his torso. Trailing from the cradled inside of his elbow was a thick hollow tube that stretched from one needle into the other one sticking out of Sirius' arm. Sirius lay in a bed not three feet from Ron's, equally unconscious and alarmingly pale as the youngest Weasley son. There was some sort of Muggle contraption between the two and though Harry couldn't completely tell from the distance, he knew that his godfather's blood was being successfully pumped into his best friend. Hermione was in a bed at Ron's right, healthy and asleep.

"Harry," Molly's voice came again at his ear, "Why don't you lay back now and get some rest…"

But Harry couldn't just yet, there was one more person standing against the rained-on window between Ron and Sirius. It was a particularly tall man with blonde hair, thick brown robes…but a familiar slouch. His back was turned to Harry and he was slowly rubbing tired eyes with his fingers.

"_Evander_?" Harry gulped, his throat catching on the second syllable, his heart hooked with it.

The man looked up and met Harry's eyes with his own dark, oval-shaped ones and a sharp chin. It was Evander, no one else in the world could have such a look of grief. Harry didn't recognize who he was under the Polyjuice Potion but that didn't matter. The disguised Evander offered a smile for a brief moment before stepping forward to flip some unnecessary switches on the Muggle machinery. Harry's heart ached sympathetically as well as with his own pain.

Evander Lupin looked quite ill.

"Come now, Harry." This time Harry obeyed Molly's quiet voice and let her gently lower him back down onto the sheets. Her voice was tainted with tears Harry had no doubt she would unleash once his eyes were shut. "It's over now…" she whispered. "We love you so much, Harry. Thank you…Thank you for saving my son's life…"

Harry's throat clogged but he was too tired to swallow. For awhile he listened to the raindrops against Hogwarts. Soon Molly began to hum softly to him, but the rain sounded like a stampeding hippogriff, and in his dream Harry was riding Buckbeak as they soared into a green sunset, where his father's voice called Remus' name over and over until the green turned to black.

-------

Harry could smell the dawn, but he lay in bed for another quarter of an hour, smiling and listening to the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Bloody Hell, Hermione, you're worse than Mum!"

Sirius Black snickered from the direction of Ron's voice as Hermione sighed audibly. Harry couldn't suppress a laugh.

He had his family back.

…most of it.

Harry sat up, whispered "_Accio_" and "_Wingardium Leviosa_" in the same breath, and his glasses, thanks to Wandless Magic, were promptly on his nose.

"When the Hell did you learn that?" Sirius demanded. He was sitting on the Ron side of his bed, his arm bandaged but otherwise his perfectly wonderful abnormal self.

"Remus taught me." Harry said quietly as he cautiously got to his feet. "I've actually been able to do it all along, but he taught me how to control it."

Weighty, affectionately, and attempting lightness, Sirius said "Of course he did." Sirius reached out and enveloped Harry into a fierce hug. "I take it he asked to be your godfather." Harry nodded against his shoulder. "Then he had the right to do what he did, Harry. You're worth dying for, you know that?"

"I'm noticing a pattern at least."

Harry turned to Ron then, and immediately regretted not mentally and emotionally preparing himself. The expression on Ron's face was unreal and ridiculously readable: brought to the surface of his skin was a look of love so fierce that even a moment of eye contact made Harry shiver. And Ron was crying, which Harry had yet to truly witness. It was nearly unbearable.

Ron grinned, "Hiya Harry, what's up?"

"Not your temperature, apparently." Ron was drenched in sweat. His fever had broken. He was still ghostly pale, swollen, weak, but with Hermione's help he pushed himself into a sitting position and reached out for Harry as if he were a toddler wanting his dad.

Harry went to hug him for the first time in days, but suddenly both Ron and Hermione slapped Harry quite violently on each arm. "OW!" Harry yelped and rubbed the two bruises.

"What the HELL were you THINKING?" Ron demanded. There were tears of anger now, "Hermione told me what you were trying to do you bloody LUNATIC! Harry, if you get yourself killed, I'll kill you. If Remus hadn't gone after you I would've personally waltzed into that Veil with Sirius still siphoned to me and kicked your bloody selfish ARSE!"

Ron was gasping for breath and they were wet, uncontrolled. Harry blinked. He and Hermione lunged forward as Ron teetered dizzily. Harry managed to catch Ron's red hair before he collided with the headboard, and Hermione adjusted his arms until Ron lay comfortably on his back once more.

"By the way," Ron managed amongst a particularly lengthy wince. Hermione brushed his hair away from his eyes, and left her hand there. "Thanks, mate." Harry put his hand on Ron's forearm but his best friend grasped for his fingers.

"Ron, are you ok?" Hermione asked, edging closer to him. Harry took notice of the nearly black and blue half moons beneath her eyes, and decided that he would never let his two best friends be reduced to such a state again. Hermione looked dreadful.

"Will you stay with me…?" Ron's half-asleep, dazed voice was interrupted by a yawn. He grinned again, and Harry squeezed his hand. "Both of you? It still…it still hurts."

Without wasting another moment, Hermione swung her legs up onto the bed and carefully nestled herself against Ron's body, coming to rest eyes closed, with her head at Ron's neck and an arm across his chest. With a whispered spell, Harry widened the bed until there was enough room for him on Ron's opposite side. He lay with his chest past Ron's head, his right arm wrapped protectively behind both Ron and Hermione's heads, Ron still grasping his other hand, only weakening when he finally drifted off to sleep. Harry looked at their faces for a moment. Ron's cheek had come to rest against Hermione's forehead, and both wore barely distinguishable smiles. Harry heard Sirius summon a row of curtains to block the three of them off from the rest of the infirmary. A steady hand brushed through Harry's jet-black Potter hair. The comforting touch of his godfather relaxed Harry into a deep sleep and for the first time in months, he did not dream.


	16. In the Veil

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Chapter 15_:

**Author's Notes: **The italics are Hermione's point of view.

**In the Veil**

"On the contrary…the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength." -Dumbledore to Harry (5, 823).

-------

"It was so awful," Hermione was telling Ron and Harry while they ate lunch in the hospital wing the following afternoon. "Dementors make you remember your worst experiences but that Veil makes you relive them, _reenact_ them. I don't know how Sirius could handle Azkaban and now this…" she shook her head and stared at her half-eaten toast. "It was unbearable…" she continued telling them about her experience. "And it all happened so quickly…"

-------

I guess this is why I'm a Gryffindor, _Hermione thought._

_Walking into the Veil was like going through a shower of frozen glass shards. Burning icicles itched Hermione's skin but she kept walking away from the light of the Death Chamber, not knowing what direction she was going in or what she was stepping into. The moment the front of her body was engulfed it froze, and she felt the rest of her drawn in as if it were vertical quicksand. For a moment it felt like falling into Harry's Pensieve, and a moment later like being lurched around by a Portkey. Finally, the sensation was distinctly that of a hundred Dementors gathered around her, their scaly, scabbed fingers around her neck. _

_But suddenly she opened her eyes, though she didn't know when they had closed. Sunlight enveloped her in a hug and when she blinked through it she was…home! Sitting on the porch of her house between her parents who looked so…big. Hermione shook her head and looked down at herself to find not a 16-year-old in robes but a 8-year-old in a flowery dress and sandals. Her mother was braiding her hair and her father was reading from _Lord of the Rings_ in and excited voice: _

"Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."

"But our whole life for months has been one long meddling in the affairs of Wizards," said Pippin."

_Hermione grinned at her Dad's voice, and her 16-year-old self joined in. As Luke Granger continued to read, she found herself leaning against her Mum's knees and breathing in the sunshine until…_

_"Wait," she said out loud, her voice screechy. "Wait, this isn't right!" But her parents didn't hear her, her dad kept reading, her mum kept braiding. "Wait I'm still in the Veil! Stop it STOP IT!" _

_She couldn't help it, whatever the Veil was doing to her, she couldn't fight it. Instead of remembering or reliving the worst experiences of her life, she was being forced to reenact them. The scene wouldn't stop, she knew what was coming, what she was about to do as a kid, but—_

_She found herself yelling in a tantrum, "I don't wanna go, keep reading, Daddy, keep reading!" _

_"Darling, no, we have to leave now—"_

_"Mummy no!" She started screaming, kicking, ripping at their clothes—and then, at the height of her rage, when she had both of her parents in her grip, a blast of heat exploded from her palms and a red light struck her parents. They cried out in pain, and both fell to the porch, unconscious, leaving their young daughter standing in shock over their bodies, horrified at herself. _

_"No—" Hermione found herself thinking, to herself? To what? To Sirius? To anyone inside who was listening? "Sirius…I'm here for—I'm here for someone, I'm here under my own will…Sirius…I chose to come in here now let me go! You can't do this to me!" _

_Abruptly the Veil relaxed its cold, suffocating grip. Hermione, out of her past and back into the Veil, fell, as if she'd tripped down the steps leading to the twins' Basement. Fell until she collapsed onto solid ground. Stone. Cobblestone. When she lifted her head she found herself in a noisy darkness. Mouth-less voices were muttering around her._

_"Sirius…?" Hermione whispered. It was a whisper but her voice echoed as if she'd screamed, bouncing off invisible walls hiding in the darkness. She shuddered, wiped her hair out of her face, thought of Ron and got to her feet in the complete blackness. She lifted her wand, almost afraid to say a spell. _

"Lumos!"

_She was surrounded by frozen, but _talking_ corpses. _

_Hermione shrieked and hugged herself. The wand light vibrated from her trembling. Hundreds of people, House-elves, centaurs, even goblins were suspended in various positions around her, on the floor, hovering next to her, floating above her like grisly marionettes. Some of their mouths were open in frozen screams, others looked resigned, and others had their eyes shut as if in prayer. All of them were muttering to themselves and she knew they were in a dialogue as their past selves. It was immediately obvious to Hermione that they were a living dead—frozen between the last breaths they'd had outside the Veil and a freeing death that wouldn't come. Hermione suddenly realized why the Detainment Cloak was a far better, and more torturous prison than Azkaban had ever been. _

_"Sirius?" _

_She started wading through bodies, her wand tip leading the way. She wouldn't allow herself to whimper. She couldn't look into their tortured eyes. She knew what they were going through. She'd briefly felt what these people had been trapped in for years. _

_To experience the effects of a Dementor was one thing. _

_To be entombed in its stomach was whole other Quiddich pitch. _

"_SIRIUS!" As if he could hear her. The bodies' hands seemed to be grabbing for her as if to pull her into deep water. Ron's face flashed across her mind, Harry's as well. Her parents, Luke and Rebeccah…she had to get out of there, had to see them again, had to protect them the only way she knew how…_

_Hermione refused to cry. Her boys were depending on her. _

_The sea of talking bodies seemed to thicken as she went. She didn't bother to muffle a scream when she saw a child in with them. A little boy, barely six or seven, his eyes shut and floating there in the fetal position he must have been in when Voldemort tossed him in. He seemed to be talking to his grandmother, telling her goodbye. Hermione put her palm to her eyes. What Hell had she gotten herself into? _

_Finally, when she felt like she'd gone in circles, Hermione simply pushed aside all of the bodies hear her, took a deep breath, raised her wand high over her head and shouted_ "Accio _Sirius Black!"_ She stood there, wand raised, waiting.

_And waiting. _

_Until, several moments later, she heard something bumping into bodies from far off, something coming towards her at full speed. Hermione ducked as a body nearly collided with her._ "Finite Incantatem!" _she shouted at the body as it passed over her. _

_Sirius Black, who'd been in the exact body position, with the exact same facial expression he'd entered the Veil with when Harry had last seen him, fell to the black, cobblestone floor in a heap, unconscious. _

"_Sirius!" Hermione crawled towards him, pushing bodies aside, until she rolled him over. She awoke him from his Stunned state, half-astonished that he was still alive. Bellatrix Lestrange must have only stunned him and thought the Veil was instant death…_

_Sirius awoke thinking he was still dueling with his cousin_. _"Hermione?" he finally sputtered minutes later, his voice hoarse, after he'd pointed the wand that was still in his hand at every body around them. Hermione took his hand and smiled at him. "What the bloody hell is going on?" _

"_You're in the Detainment Cloak, Sirius." _

_He suddenly sat up straight, "We have to get outside! The Death Eaters! We have to make sure Harry's alright!" _

"_Sirius no, no," and Hermione explained what had happened, where they were, what was going on. _

_Sirius stared at her like as if she'd gone crazy. "And Ron is…"_

_Suddenly the cobblestone below their knees started to tremble. Sirius pulled Hermione with him as he stood up while the bodies_ _around them began to swing and knock together. It was like some bizarre human snow globe. Suddenly they heard a ripping sound and turned towards it. _

"_Sirius, there! They must've found a way to get us out!" Hermione pointed. The inside of the Dementor ripped open another section of the wall, and the hand that was reaching through it…_

…_belonged to Harry Potter. _

"_Let's go!" Sirius grabbed her and pushed her through the gateway, shoving Hermione ahead. Both landed in an awkward pile in the Death Chamber. _

"_We did it!" Hermione whooped. She helped Sirius up and turned to be joyously greeted by whatever crowd that had undoubtedly been waiting for their return. _

_But the only person there was Harry, and he had been crying. There was no smile on his face, no happiness even at seeing his godfather officially alive. Hermione pointed dramatically at Sirius and was about to open her mouth when Harry opened his. _

"_You're too late. Ron is dead." _

_Sirius collapsed to his knees with a dry sob, his hands plastered to his hair that stuck out of the gaps between his fingers. _

_Hermione, however, blinked. "No he's not." Both men looked at her. She blinked again. "Ron's not dead." _

"_He passed away about fifteen minutes ago," Harry insisted, his voice a deadweight that bowed him over, "There was nothing we could do. You're too late." _

_Hermione straightened and moved to stand between Harry and Sirius. "Harry, you're wrong. Ron isn't dead. I would know if he were dead, I would _feel_ it." _

_Harry suddenly grinned manically and the lights in the death chamber faded to emerald green. Sirius looked up past Hermione. _

"_You're not Harry." _

"_We're still in the Veil," Hermione whispered._

"_Very good…" hissed a voice from behind them. _

_Sirius froze where he sat on his knees. His only movement was a gradual exhale: "…James?"_

_Hermione whirled around. _James Potter? How?

_But before them, in the darkness, was a giant of a serpent. When it spoke it did with what Hermione assumed was Harry's father's voice. Orange light suddenly flooded into the dark emptiness around them and Sirius took Hermione by the shoulders. She could feel him trembling in fear. _

"_Ssooooo…" the Serpent hissed at them, "You, child, came into my kingdom willingly. My Master did not announce your entrance." _

"_Your Master?" Sirius didn't know what else to ask a giant talking snake. _

"_My Master, the Dark Lord Voldemort," the Serpent circled around them, its tail cutting them both off. Hermione shrank against Sirius. "Perhaps you are acquainted." _

"_You could say that," Sirius hissed back. "And what, exactly, are you?" _

"_His Animagus." _

_Hermione frowned. "You're an Animagus?"_

_The Serpent lowered its head and flicked its tongue at her. "No, child, I'm _his_ Animagus. Lord Voldemort has several, all of them basilisks, as the great Salazar Slytherin had before him. I am Nuvingi, another is Nagini, a third is Nidini. We are one, yet four. I am part of the Lord Voldemort. He placed me here in his creation to rule over it for the past 17 years..." _

"_You mean Voldemort can take the form of more than one Animagus, that they are separate from himself? He can…detach his different Animagi?" _

_The Serpent backed away from her with a trace of a smile across its orange lips. "Clever girl…" It smirked at them both. "Yet idiotic. You came in here, why? To save your friend?" It lowered its head to them again and said in James' voice. "Forget it, child." He tipped his nose at Sirius. "He's mine." _

_Hermione Granger dropped to her knees and practically bowed before the Dark Magic that imprisoned Sirius. "Please," she begged, "Please." The Serpent throbbed in orange light and glared at her. "Without Sirius my best friend will die. I'll do anything," Hermione whispered, lowering her eyes, "Anything." _

_The orange light pulsed with intrigue for several lengthy moments during which Hermione sniffled and Sirius held his breath. The Serpent seemed to be pondering the request though it did not show in his expression. And when James Potter's voice echoed once more from the throne, Hermione already knew what he would demand. The flame brightened, casting odd shadows across Sirius' tense face. _

_"A trade, then," James' voice announced, "I will make a bargain: Sirius Black will go free, if the clever Hermione Granger will remain in his place." _

_"NO!" Sirius sidestepped and stood defiantly between the Serpent and Hermione. _

_"Sirius," Hermione began, her voice high in pitch, "It's ok, I—I want this, I'm making this decision—" _

_"No, I'm making the decision for you," Sirius shouted at her, "And I choose to stay—" Sirius suddenly halted, right above her, lifted his chin, and sniffed. _

_The Serpent also raised his face, listening, and after a moment said "The decision has been made. And the bargain is binding." Sirius sniffed again, his head tilted to the side. _

"_No, no wait," Hermione got to her feet, "You mean my choice, right?" _

_Sirius inhaled, and took a step towards the throne where the Serpent's bizarre glow was decreasing. _

_"Neither," the Serpent responded. Almost sadly, the orange began to darken and the Animagus shrink. James' voice softened as if smothered by the descending shadows Hermione tried to blink out of her sight. "Neither. Another has made the choice, made the bargain, and he has offered himself." _

_"Who—" Hermione began. _

_"Oh no…" was Sirius' answer to her question. _

_"Never again will I make this exception," the Serpent's voice echoed. "The trade is worth it to have a werewolf." _

_Sirius closed his eyes and breathed in the familiar scent of the werewolf for the last time. "Rem…? _REMUS_!" The tears pouring from Sirius' eyes were tinted a Hellish orange. The Serpent and his throne began to ebb away until the two wizards were left with darkness. "Remus no, please, please don't do this!" Sirius choked on his own voice. _

"_MOONY!"_

_A moment before the orange light completely transformed into darkness, before she was practically launched out of the Veil with Sirius beside her, Hermione heard the heartbreaking howl of a defeated werewolf… _

-------

"I was almost convinced that I dreamed all of that." A grinning Sirius Black stuck his head in between the curtains and grinned at Hermione, Ron and Harry. Crookshanks sat purring in his arms. He sniffed as his thoughts obviously turned to Remus, before reverting back to the present again. "Christmas break begins tomorrow, you three, I take it you're coming to the Basement?"

Harry nodded at Ron who turned to Hermione when she shifted uncomfortably. "I'm actually going home for Christmas Eve at least," she said, a bit too softly. Harry frowned at her as a far away look hovered over her eyes. "I'm going home…"

Before Harry could question her, Sirius suddenly dashed between the curtains and closed them behind him. New voices entered the hospital wing.

"Sirius?"

Harry's godfather was sticking his head through a gap in the bed curtains. He looked over his shoulder at the sound of Harry's voice, and shushed him with a forefinger at his lips. Just then Dumbledore's grave voice reached Harry's ears.

"…I must go to the Ministry, I'll be back in a few hours, Minerva. Sirius, if you would, please don't let those three out of your sight. And since you still can't go out in public yet, I suggest that you stay there. However, I suspect that your name may be cleared quite soon. It's good to have you back, Sirius."

Harry watched Sirius' right elbow move up and down as he shook Dumbledore's hand. "Thank you, sir."

"I regret Remus Lupin's absence already…"

"As do I."

Sirius closed the curtains with the sigh.

"What is it?" Harry asked. "What happened?"

"Muggle London was attacked. People are being evacuated to St. Mungo's. Dumbledore left for the Ministry."

"But…if there are any Death Eaters here, Hogwarts needs him!"

"Harry, the world needs that man, almost as much as it needs you."

-------

Dumbledore still hadn't returned by that night. The Weasleys came with supper and to re-charm the Godfather Clocks. Sirius was given a new one and they all kept track of him rather than Lupin now. Harry got a stomach ache as "RL" was replaced by "SB" and the watch hand turned from "Lost" to "Hogwarts." When the twins appeared they tossed Ron a few chocolate frogs and pulled up chairs on either side of the curtain sanctioning the "Weasley Zone," and stretched out their legs to trip Arthur whenever he cam through.

Unfortunately it was Molly who fell victim to Fred and George's prank. Arthur had been speaking to her and the twins assumed it was his leg. Luckily Charlie had arrived five minutes before, and gracefully caught his mother before she flatted Ron's "Get Away from Madam Pomfrey" cake. At some point during Molly's yelling and Sirius' laughter, Bill and Arthur parted the curtain and joined the group and Harry was with his family.


	17. Hermione's Choice

**The Man Who Lives**

By: PenPatronus

_Chapter 16_:

**Hermione's Choice **

"I think I'm feeling a bit…_rebellious_." –Hermione (5, 634)

-------

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Severus Snape was in the middle of explaining "_Detatcho_!" (new Dark curse #38) when Harry noticed that Hermione wasn't paying attention. He was about to assume she was daydreaming about Ron, but the far-off look in her eyes was one of pain. He nudged her elbow with his, "You ok?"

"Mmm hmm," she responded without blinking.

Harry frowned. "What are you thinking about?"

Hermione sighed, "The holiday." Christmas break would begin after dinner.

Harry poked her again, "Aren't you looking forward to it?"

"Sure…"

When the bell sounded Hermione started walking in the opposite direction of the Great Hall and Ron called "Where are you off to?"

"I'm not hungry. I'll be in the library. See you in the common room."

"But we don't have any homework," Ron observed once she was out of earshot. "What's she researching that's more important than Christmas dinner?"

"Harry?"

Harry froze at the familiar voice. For a moment his heart was in his throat but he remembered, and pushed it back into its place.

"Hi Mr. Lupin."

"Call me Evander, please." Evan looked like Remus after a hard full moon. The circles under his eyes were as dark as his black Muggle sweater. Apparently he ran out of Polyjuice Potion as well. Or just didn't care anymore. "I'm glad to see that you're both up and well."

Ron, after he realized who they were talking to, adjusted his grip on his textbooks and bit his lower lip. Harry knew how he felt. The last thing he wanted to do that day was talk about the weather with the brother of a man who'd just gotten imprisoned in a bloody torture chamber for them. Not for the first time Harry was grateful that Remus and Evander weren't twins. It was already hard enough to tell them apart.

"Thanks…" Ron mumbled, staring at his toes. Harry resisted the urge to step on them.

"I just wanted to say goodbye to you both," Evander continued a little awkwardly. "I imagine my secretary has quite the list of appointments for me to make up." The boys nodded. "Well then. Harry, do Owl me if you ever need anything. Really. Remus always spoke so fondly of your father and you as well…" It looked painful to pronounce his brother's name. "Happy Christmas to you both." With a self-conscious smile, Evander turned and walked down the corridor. Ron exhaled with relief but Harry couldn't help but speak up.

"Evander?"

Lupin turned.

"I'm sorry."

Lupin paled, he expression on his face was the exact same one that Remus would've worn, "Sirius and Dumbledore told me everything," said Evander with slow caution. "_Everything_. About that prophecy and…And it's an honor to have met you, Harry Potter…" Harry wondered why having a scar meant that people used both names when addressing him. "Remus loved you, and there is nor greater honor than to die for who you love."

Harry nodded and Evander, unable to say anymore, suddenly took a step forward, shook Harry's hand, and then disappeared down the hallway.

-------

"Here, Hermione."

"Oh Harry thank you." Hermione gently took the Pensieve from him and set it in her trunk. "Did you charm it so it won't break?"

Gryffindor's common room was starting to empty as all of the students who were going home started filing out for the carriages leading to the Hogwarts express. "What do you need his Pensieve for?" Ron asked.

"Oh just a little Christmas experiment." She held up a book: Magically Modify Multiple Memories.

"Memory charms? Don't tell me you want to cure Gilderoy Lockhart!"

Hermione actually smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Jealous?" Harry chuckled.

"Barking mad," Ron muttered to Harry as they left. Ron shook his head and Harry caught him smiling fondly at the back of Hermione's head.

Ginny got into the same carriage as them and the four sat talking on the train as it headed for Platform 9¾.

Ron kept nagging Hermione to explain what she wanted with the pensive and why she was reading so many books about memory when—

"Harry, tell Ron to stop bug…Harry?"

Harry had gone rigid except for his right fist which he dug into his forehead. Ginny, who was sitting next to him quietly put her arm around his shoulders. Ron was instantly at the door and closed the compartment, blocking the rest of the students. "Harry?" Ron called his name after several moments. Harry shut his eyes. Sweat began to seep at his hairline. "Not again…Harry!"

"It's the scar," Hermione whispered fearfully. Ron voiced Harry's name even louder. This time Harry heard him.

"It's…cold." Harry muttered. His teeth began to chatter. "It doesn't really hurt…it's just…cold." Harry wrapped himself in a hug. Ginny squeezed in closer and Hermione rose and to add her own hug for warmth.

"Does that mean that Voldemort's cold?" Ron asked with a poker face.

"I'm not sure."

"Maybe he's eating ice cream."

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked what was really relevant at the moment.

"Yeah, actually," Harry suddenly realized that the cold was gone. He rubbed his scar for good measure. "That was weird." He suddenly noticed Ginny and his cheeks reddened.

"Harry…" Hermione muttered, "Do you think that meant that Voldemort is near dementors?"

Ron blinked. "I still vote for the ice cream concept."

"Maybe he's just in a cold place?" Harry wondered aloud, "Do you think I feel the weather he's in?"

"Or he's sick and has the chills?" asked Ginny.

Ron threw his hands up, "Ice cream! Definitely ice cream!" Harry laughed at that but tried to smother it, knowing that Hermione would be annoyed. She tried to be, she really did. But her stern look didn't deflect Ron's good-natured smile.

When the train got to London a huge crowd was waiting. Between all of the Weasleys was Fleur (who was holding hands with Bill), Tonks (who was holding hands with a blushing George), Kingsley and a platoon of Order members and Aurors surrounding Arthur Weasley. But at the front, grinning, waving, and flashing a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, stood a very free Sirius Black.

"15 years later and I'm officially pardoned by the Minister of Magic him-SELF!" Sirius clapped Arthur on the back before yanking Harry into a hug. Around them on the platform wizards and witches, young and old were doing massive double-takes at the sight of the notorious Sirius Black looking right at home with Harry Potter and Arthur Weasley.

"Co-Minister," Arthur corrected, "And thanks to Amos, for the next four days, I'm just a father." Arthur looked stressed and exhausted yet thrilled to be with his sons and daughter. Harry's thoughts went briefly to Cedric Diggory. Arthur hugged Ginny and kissed her on her forehead, then reached to carry her bags to the Ministry's cars waiting for them.

"Hermione!" shouted a cheerful voice. Harry looked up to see Mr. and Mrs. Granger fighting their way through the wizard crowd. Hermione, who'd been chatting with Tonks, practically ran for them and Harry thought he saw tears in her eyes when she passed.

"Who's this?" Sirius asked when Oz, who'd gotten loose in the owl-compartment of the train, suddenly soared out of it and landed on Harry's shoulder, his black feathers sticking out every which way.

"We really do need to update you on the past few months," Harry smiled, teetering a bit under Oz's weight.

"No kidding." Sirius hoisted up Harry's bags as the Aurors started shoving everyone out to the parking lot. "Who won the International Quiddich cup this year?"

-------

Christmas Eve morning woke up the mass of people squatting in Weasleys Wizard Wheezes' Basement with Mrs. Weasley's cooking, but mostly via the arrival of Pig. The tiny owl had soared through the trapdoor, around everyone asleep in the hammocks, and in and out of all six tents, hooting all the while. When Pig finally found Harry he went looking for Ron, and when Ron, Harry. He ended up a squawking mess bouncing between both boys before Ron snatched him out of the air and untied the letter around the owl's leg.

"It's addressed to both of us," Ron chuckled. He shook his head at Pig. "Hermione knows better than to confuse you like that!"

"Is anything wrong?" Harry asked as he changed into one of Mrs. Weasley's sweaters.

"Why so paranoid, mate?" Ron teased as he read. "It just says that she wants to see us tonight, wants us to come to her house to have dinner with her parents…but not 'til 11:00…"

"Huh?"

-------

At 11pm, two camouflaged wizards on broomsticks landed on Hermione's roof. "Just for the fun of it," said Ron who slipped and almost fell off. A few minutes later they saw Hermione come out of the front door of the house and wordlessly she waved them down.

Ron had never seen Muggle Christmas decorations. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a Yule log, and keep your voice down! My parents are sleeping upstairs."

"Why do you have a log?" Ron asked. Hermione stared at him. For once she didn't know the answer to a question and the boys promised to never stop teasing her about it. Ever.

"Hermione why do you need us here?" Harry asked when all three of them settled in front of the lit fireplace. Hermione had a Muggle spatula and was stirring ingredients into Harry's Pensieve.

"Here." Hermione handed them owl-cage sized cardboard box full of pictures. Harry took out a handful and grinned at a 6-year-old Hermione in pigtails holding her parents' hands. "I need you to erase me out of all of those pictures."

"What?" Ron and Harry sputtered in unison.

Hermione sighed, crossed her legs under herself and stared at her two best friends. Harry and Ron both cringed a bit from the look on her face. The fire crackled loudly as she took a deep breath.

"I'm going to erase my Mom and Dad's memories."


	18. The Legacy of Lily Potter

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Chapter 17:_

**The Legacy of Lily Potter**

"You'd think a bit of kissing would cheer her up." –Ron to Harry, about Cho (5, 458)

-------

"Hermione why are you doing this? Why do you want to erase your parents' memories?"

Hermione shifted closer to Ron and Harry. She looked as confident as if the question was asked by a professor. "Your mum gave me the idea, Harry. She perfected the _Expurgate_ spell. It's similar to the Fidelius, actually. But memories instead of locations, and lots of Jobberknoll. Lily Potter figured out that the best way to protect her Muggle family was to get them out of our world and that, unfortunately, includes removing _me_ from their lives as well."

Ron had started shaking his head the moment the plan was revealed and he continued even with Hermione glaring at him. "No way, no _way_, Hermione! You won't be able to live with yourself if you do this. This is ludicrous! You'll regret it forever! You'll regret it tomorrow morning when you don't celebrate Christmas with them! I'm sure if Harry's mum had lived long enough she—" Ron squeezed his eyes shut and groaned as if from a stomach ache. "Sorry, mate, I didn't mean…" He reached out and clapped Harry on the shoulder. Harry nodded back. Hermione smoothed out her long khaki skirt and turned her attention to the fireplace.

It was Harry who finally interrupted the silence, "Hermione, do you seriously plan on going through with this? To lose your family…it might be worse knowing they're alive, knowing that they don't even remember you…" Harry looked into the fire as well. "If Voldemort and his followers go after them you know they'll have the Order's protection! And Ron's dad will…Hermione…" She winced at his tone of voice and looked up at Harry from her Indian-style squat on the carpet. Harry leaned forward and stared at her. "Don't you think they'd be better off having you as a daughter than never knowing about all of this? They're your parents! I'd give anything to have mine and you want to…" Harry leaned back away from her and shrugged, "You don't have much when you don't have family."

Hermione blinked. "I have you." She looked at Ron and her face brightened a bit in the firelight. "Both of you. I've put a lot of thought into it, even since the summer, and it's for their own good. I would rather they have their memories erased than be _killed_ because of this war. They won't know any difference. I'd break their hearts if I just never came home, so it would be better if they forgot I ever existed!"

Harry's eyes suddenly filled with tears and he blinked them away before the other two could notice. "It's because of me that you have to do this…it's because you're friends with me that you have to lose your family, that you're both in danger…"

"Hanging around the Minister of Magic's family isn't exactly low profile either." Ron's voice dropped to an uncharacteristic whisper. "Hermione aren't you breaking your own heart either way?"

"People do stuff all the time for my own good, Hermione," Harry continued, "and it's annoying, let me tell you."

"What if you talked to them and asked them, what they would—"

"I know what they would say. And I know what I'm doing. Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall have been helping me with this all semester. Dumbledore showed Harry's mum in the first place."

The boys glanced at each other, both looking for the other for rebuttal. Hermione finally smiled, knowing that being the cleverest one of the bunch earned her points even when she didn't sound logical. "I'm doing this, guys. I want my family to be safe and they won't be because I'm a Mudblood. And I need your help. It'll take hours for me to do the incantations that will take out all of their memories of me and anything in our world and store them in the Pensive. After I seal their minds the magic will work so that any Muggle who thinks of me will have their memory erased. There will be shadows of me sometimes, feelings of unidentifiable déjà vu, but that's all. And meanwhile I need you to remove me from this house: erase me out of every picture, pack up all of my things, go through every scrap of paper in the house…just make sure that nothing gives them the impression that they _ever_ had a daughter." Hermione's voice cracked a bit on the last sentence but she remained strong.

Resignedly, Ron and Harry nodded their consent. They got out their wands and Hermione took the Pensieve upstairs. Ron watched her go and Harry thought he saw Hermione glance over her shoulder at him.

-------

Three hours into Christmas Eve later, Ron was staring at the staircase and his lips were moving slightly as if he were rehearsing a speech. Harry left him alone, kept himself pre-occupied with magically erasing Hermione's face out of picture frames and trying not to snort at the blush spreading across Ron's freckled cheeks. Soon Ron was arranging his hair in front of a mirror, straightening his clothes, searching for mints in every drawer he could find. It was all Harry could do not to tease him so profusely it would make Fred and George proud.

"Well Harry, I think I'll go check on Hermione, see if she needs…anything." Harry turned away from his struggles to get one of Hermione's baby pictures out of its frame to see Ron faking a yawn in order to check his breath.

"All right." Ron started up the stairs, very, very slowly. "And Ron? Good luck, mate."

"Thanks, Harry." Ron was half-way up before he turned around and shot a suspicious look at his best friend. "_Good luck_? For—for _what_?"

"You know what!"

"I know I know what but how do you know what that I…I know…" Ron sighed and sat down on the stair he'd stopped at. Harry came over and leaned on the railing as the redhead combed his fingers repeatedly through his hair. "Harry have I gone mental?"

"I'd call you mental if you waited much longer!"

"That's the thing. I've waited years, but now I can't force myself to wait another day. What's wrong with me? I'm a bloody Gryffindor and I can't even talk to her? Plus, she's up there performing delicate magic on her parents to make them forget her…this is hardly a romantic moment."

"She'll appreciate it. Bright spot amongst her pain right now. Don't worry, Ron, it's Hermione."

"Yeah…" Ron suddenly sported the goofiest of grins, "It's Hermione, _Hermione_…could never be anyone else…Harry, I woke up from that bloody coma and there she was, so…delicate, so beautiful…I was afraid to ever fall asleep again because I couldn't stand her not being there when I woke up…" Then his face darkened. "But now she's…losing her parents. And I'm being a selfish git…forcing her to think about…about—"

"…how she needs you, now more than ever!"

Ron looked surprised at the statement, but didn't disagree. "So…I'm not being a self-centered prat for…for doing this, for doing this _now_?"

Harry considered it, weighed how Hermione might react, how _he_ would react if the worst day of his life was suddenly brightened by the mere presence of…The corner of Harry's lip curled ever so softly. Ron was looking at him as if Harry's answer would determine the rest of his life. And there was another question in Ron's expression, one he was even more terrified to propose. But Harry read it, sensed a compliment along with unexpected, brotherly overprotection. For them both. And knew he might have to use it as collateral later. One day he might have to ask Ron's permission…

_I wish Ginny was here…_

Harry grinned. "Come 'ere." Ron frowned but descended the stairs as Harry took out his wand. "Kneel." Ron rolled his eyes but Harry could see the anxiety draining out of his laughing eyes. Ceremoniously, Ron knelt and Harry placed his wand on his left shoulder, cleared his voice and announced, "I, Harry James Potter, do hereby dub thee, Ronald Bilius Weasley, knight of Hermione's….heart? Sure." he tapped Ron's shoulder and then the other, barely missing jabbing Ron in the eye with the tip, "With my blessing and insistence and utter impatience. Henceforth I command that you kiss the hell out of her. Arise, Sir Weasley." Ron kicked Harry in the shins when he got up. Harry playfully tousled his best friend's red hair and Ron yelped, hurrying to rearrange it as Harry shoved him up the stairs before he could stall any longer.

"Oh, Ron wait." Harry announced, "_Orchideous_" and flowers burst from the tip of his wand. He didn't really want them to sprout from his fingers. Ron grinned his thanks and took them in trembling hands.

When Ron was about to disappear through the Granger's bedroom door, he glanced down at Harry and mouthed "Checkmate." When the red hair disappeared, Harry literally felt something in their triangle of friendship shift.

And suddenly he was royally grossed out.

But in spite of that, Harry took an Extendable Ear out of his pocket. "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" Harry directed the lobe of the Extendable Ear up the stairs and waited until he could hear Ron's voice.

"…yeah, actually, that is what I meant to say…"

Harry heard a creak in bedsprings and assumed that Hermione had gotten up. Footsteps were followed by muffled clothing and Harry smiled, knowing that they were hugging.

Hermione sniffed a few times before she spoke in a voice laced with vulnerability, "Ron? Do—do you think I'm pretty?"

"No." No hesitation.

Silence, then, "But you…you _do_ want to date…for awhile? Is that what you're saying?"

"No."

Harry heard Hermione take a step backwards. "You don't even like me, do you…" The last few words faded as Hermione turned away from Ron. There was a moment of more ruffled clothing and footsteps and Harry imagined Ron pivoting around Hermione and forcing her to look at him. When Ron spoke his voice was strained in a whisper. Harry put his fist to his chin and bit his forefinger.

"Hermione I'm sorry, but I really don't know how to say these things…I'm scared."

"I know. I am too."

"Listen, let me just get this out—I don't think you're pretty, I think you're the most gorgeous, brilliant, beautiful, bloody _astounding_ woman _ever_. And I don't want to just date, I want to be with you for as long as you'll let me. I'm not worthy of you…but it would take _Imperius_ for me to leave you. And if you didn't want to try this I wouldn't be upset, I'd be a bloody wreck. Inconsolable…And Hermione, I don't like you. I stopped liking you years ago. And what came next I couldn't define until…" Ron took a deep breath.

"I _love_ you, Hermione, I _love_—" Ron was interrupted by Hermione pressing her lips to his. Harry grinned and patted the Ear in thanks.

-------

When Ron completed a thankfully slow descent down the Grangers' stairs, Harry was nonchalantly erasing Hermione out of photographs, the Extendable Ear Vanished just in case. Ron's ears were still blushing and he was biting his lower lip and looking thoroughly exhausted. He held tight to the stair railing and collapsed into the closest chair, letting loose the longest, most high-pitched sigh Harry had ever witnessed.

"Well?" Ron didn't seem to know Harry was there. "Ron! Ronald! Hey, Weasley!" Ron finally glanced up and looked at Harry as if he were an innocent bystander rather than a best friend. "Did you kiss?" Ron's eyes widened at the word. He nodded. "Ha!" Harry pumped his fist. "Well, how was it?"

Ron's nose crinkled for a moment, "Kinda wet. She was crying."

"You're that bad at kissing?"

Ron's head snapped up and he was about to get defensive when he caught the joke, "Cut it out, Harry." Harry caught the couch pillow launched in his direction. Ron folded his hands behind his head. "It was…nice. And then the second time it was nice. And then the third time…how do you count these things? Round three lasted a few minutes so does that just count as one…?"

"How would I know, mate?"

Ron blushed anew as he considered the interaction. "She's long-winded with kissing, too. Spunky, really passionate…pressed against her was just, _wow_…" Ron mimed fireworks with his fingers.

"Ok! I get the picture, Ron, thank you very much. I'm not too sure I want the details considering Hermione's practically my sister."

"Well it stopped pretty quick when we remembered we were right next to her sleeping parents…"

Harry swallowed and juggled the burden of the dual moods of the night. "How's she handling this?"

Ron was silent for a moment as his face dropped. "She's saying goodbye…She feels guilty and lonely and selfish for some reason, I'm not sure why. She's really…she's really just sad."

"Impressive that you've analyzed all that."

"Yep, I think she's proud."

-------

As dawn spread through the neighborhood, the door to the Grangers' bedroom opened and a very haggard Hermione emerged, holding the colorful, boiling Pensieve in her hand. Ron was immediately up the stairs to take it out of her hands. She leaned into him and he planted a kiss across the tearstains on her cheek. Harry took her arm when she got to the bottom of the stairs where she nearly tripped from exhaustion.

"We shrunk everything and harnessed all of it to the broomsticks," Harry reported. He took out his wand, froze the Pensieve's contents and reduced it to pocketsize.

Hermione nodded. "Did you get my macaroni art off the fridge? What about my nail polish, and that witch Halloween costume in the basement?"

"We did a sweep for your name, fingerprints, hair, everything with our wands, Hermione. We got it all."

"Thanks, Harry." Hermione looked up Ron for a moment, then dug her face into his chest. Ron looked as tired as Hermione with his pale skin darkened just below his eyes. But he stood straight and strong and held Hermione to him. Harry came up behind her and hugged them both for a moment before levitating both brooms before them and opening the front door.

Hermione was about to leave her home forever.

"Are you all right?"

Harry turned back to see Ron's concerned expression scanning Hermione for anything he could comfort. She was battling back a fresh round of tears that Ron intercepted with kisses. Finally Hermione simply smiled, looked at the sunlight glittering across the snow outside, and said, "Merry Christmas."


	19. Gryffindor's Hair

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Chapter 18: _

**Author's Notes:** Just a review or two? Please? No, "Hair" is not a spelling mistake.

**Gryffindor's Hair**

"You know, Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts…but you cannot deny he's got style…" –Phineas Niggelius (5, 623)

"Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me…I suppose that's written in the stars as well." –Harry (1, 260)

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see._

-Sorting Hat (1, 117)

**-------**

Christmas flew by with its traditional Firebolt speed. Harry spent most of the break with Sirius, including a trip to Godric's Graveyard to set up a memorial for Remus. Peter Pettigrew had been moved out of the Hogwarts dungeons and into a holding cell in the Ministry of Magic. Arthur was receiving many petitions from Wizards all over the world to simply chuck any captured Death Eaters into the Detainment Veil for "safe keeping".

Harry and the Weasleys played many games of Quiddich in and through the snow of Diagon Alley. The Twins magicked bullets of snowballs to confuse the Seekers and chase Mrs. Weasley. Around the Weasleys Harry was "allowed" to use his Wandless Magic which came in handy when Mrs. Weasley insisted that they all put their wands away during Christmas dinner in the Basement. It felt strange to use it for so long, though. Harry felt a prickle in his fingers after feeling each spell leave him. And it gave him a bit of a headache, like he'd gone all day without food.

For a Christmas present, Harry had all of the pictures of his friends and family that were lost with his trunk in the Dursley car's fire, replaced. Hagrid, the Weasleys, and Remus and now Sirius had been working on compiling them. The new album contained pictures of James and Lily's extended family, some Harry had seen in the Mirror of Erised, others he'd met personally. Only a month after Harry had met Hosta Evans, Remus had returned to the Muggle family to return Mark's shirt, and they posed for pictures with him. Harry felt a flinch of pain when he realized Remus would never be able to tell him _how_ he tricked them into posing for a Wizard camera. During a trip to Gringotts Harry stuck the photo album in his vault.

Hermione spent her time either with Ron or with her books, catching up now that her memory spellwork was completed. Her newest endeavor was learning how to invent new spells. Poor Ron spent most of Christmas break either blushing or smacking his brothers or stealing quick moments (or long hours) alone with Hermione. Harry spent a lot more time with Ginny, joking about Ron and Hermione's relationship and having the most random conversations:

"Porter? Like a port? Like in a harbor? Is that even a name?"

"Yes it's a name, I swear," Harry shrugged at Ginny. "Oh come on, what would you change my name to if you could?"

Ginny squinted and looked him over. "Not Porter Potter, that's for sure. You look like a Todd. Definitely not an Andy or a Roger, and certainly not _Porter_. Hey! You might pass as a Tom."

"Hey!" Harry sat up straight. Ginny put her hand over her mouth and muttered some unintelligible apology.

Harry put a band aid on the moment by deciding that Ginny should change her name to either Rebeccah, Sabrina or Amy.

"Wouldn't it be nice to be a squib for awhile? Or have a job grounds keeping like Hagrid?" Ginny asked.

Harry snorted. "It would be nice to run away to bloody Australia. It would be nice not to be me for awhile. It would be nice to be in someone else's skin, no scar, no one able to recognize me, change my name to Porter or Todd or something…maybe I could just fake my death?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "I'm sure we can take less drastic measures than that. There's a new wave of magi-dermatology. Or we could just stick a tattoo over your scar."

Harry _loved_ to hear Ginny say "we."

------

"When the school year is over we'll find out if there's an Animagus in you," Sirius promised Harry when he hugged him at Platform 9¾. "And you'll be better updated now that you know Occlumency. The only Order of the Phoenix top secrets that you need want to know right now is that according to the Sorting Hat Snape really is on our side (and under orders from Voldemort not to teach you students practical Defense, though he's showing the Gryffindors a lot more than anyone else, and he's teaching you the Death Eaters' new curses), and Tonks sleeps with a stuffed pink bunny."

Harry's laughter sobered up quicker than he meant it to. "Sirius, do you really think my Wandless powers is the power Voldemort doesn't know about? You know, from the Prophecy?"

"I'm not sure Harry, I'm just not sure. Not even Dumbledore can know for sure with these things. But keep it secret all the same." Sirius looked at Harry for a moment, with a look on his face that said he was seeing James. Then he snapped out of it and hugged Harry once more. "Take care of yourself, all right? Don't worry too much about homework or House points."

"I will."

Going back to school felt pointless with so much going on with the war, as much as eating Christmas dinner felt tense and awkward. Their first Transfiguration class was eventful. After weeks of trying to learn how to transfigure inanimate objects into animals, still only Hermione had figured out how. She turned a rock into a turtle, a quill into a parakeet and her own wand into an adorable lamb.

"A sheep?" she asked McGonagall. "My patronus is an otter, which means that's what I'd be as an Animagus if I could, but my wand's inner spirit is a _sheep_?" McGonagall tried to keep the corners of her lips down but they sprouted up in laughter (much to Hermione's chagrin). The professor's own wand turned into a dolphin which was somehow more respectable in Hermione's sight. Ron insisted that a lamb went well with a Gryffindor, that it paired well with the lion and…Hermione told him to shut up before giving his endearing efforts a kiss that made Harry gag.

At supper that evening, owls tracked down Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny. They made quite a scene by hopping across every head at the Gryffindor table or doing loops in the air before landing in the food. Oz nipped affectionately at Harry's ear and seemed to read the parchment over his shoulder. Each message was an invitation and signed by Dumbledore, who was missing from the front table. The four friends left dinner straight away, under the confused stares of their classmates.

"Peach drop," Harry said to the wall to Dumbledore's office. For once, as eerie for everyone save Harry and Dumbledore of course, every portrait in the circular room was awake, watching and chattering as if about gossip. Fawkes the phoenix sat on the edge of his perch looking anxious and jittery. Albus Dumbledore himself was sitting, his long fingers steepled on the desk, having a quiet conversation with a haggard-looking Minister of Magic and his wife. Arthur Weasley turned when Ginny came into sight and his face broke into a grin.

"Hey Dad." Ginny hugged her father and Arthur kissed the top of her head.

"What's going on?" Harry asked Mrs. Weasley who cocked her head at Dumbledore and started to explain but just then a succession of redheads _exploded_ out of a fireplace by the door. A Weasley twin spilled out followed by his brother, and then Charlie Weasley followed by Bill. All four brothers ended up entangled on the floor with their mother immediately fussing over them as they burst into laughter. Ron moved closer to Hermione, both smiling, and took her hand. It had taken a few days for him to get over being teased by his brothers, but now he proudly paraded Hermione in front of his family. Hermione giggled as Ron's brothers tried to untangle themselves (George had given up and just lay on the floor laughing) and Ron lifted the back of Hermione's hand to his lips. Her eyes closed for a moment to enjoy the kiss. Dumbledore and Arthur exchanged smiles.

"Wow, I've never been in here," Bill Weasley said to Charlie who chuckled as he helped his older brother get to his feet.

"I have, I was in trouble all the time. You were head boy but I got to see more." Molly swarmed in on them both to dust the ash out of their robes but they made her stop long enough to give her a hug.

"Hey Harry, what's this all about?" Fred shook Harry's hand. Both twins had on matching maroon Weasley's Wizard Wheezes robes that clashed dreadfully with their hair. Dumbledore stood and seemed to do a head count before he gathered his midnight-blue robes in his hands and went over to where his Pensieve sat glittering under a window. Harry watched with curiosity as Dumbledore set the Pensieve in the very center of the office floor and motioned for the group of Weasleys and their extended family to gather around.

"Seriously Dumbledore, what did you contact all of us for?" Arthur asked. Molly came to his side and he put his arm around her. "What do you need to tell my family?"

Dumbledore smiled a bit, then raised his wand to his temple and tugged a glowing memory out of his brain. He let it boil in the Pensieve for a moment, leaning over it like Professor Snape examining a potion. Then he straightened, the room silenced and Dumbledore looked right at Harry. "There is a prophecy," he said, "that concerns the heirs of Gryffindor."

Silence, then, "But we don't know who—" Hermione glanced at Harry.

Ron caught the look and snorted. "I have a guess."

Harry rolled his eyes and familiar anger began to boil in his chest, "I suppose nothing should surprise me anymore." Harry pivoted out of Ginny's reaching arm and marched to the door.

"It's not Harry," Dumbledore said softly.

They all turned. Harry stared at Dumbledore for a moment. "What?"

Dumbledore swallowed, "It's not you, Harry, you're not Gryffindor's heir." Harry rejoined the circle with a blush on his face.

"But—but he pulled Godric Gryffindor's sword out of the Sorting Hat!" Hermione exclaimed. Above them, the Sorting Hat woke up and glared down.

"And his parents lived in Godric's Hollow!" Ron threw up his arms.

"And I assumed that since Voldemort is the heir of Slytherin…"

"And every bloody thing ends up being about Harry anyways!" Ron shook his hands as if strangling Dumbledore would make him see his mistake.

Fred, George, Charlie and Bill's heads snapped back and forth between Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore.

Harry was unfamiliar with the feeling of relief. "Then who is it?" Part of him would've felt comforted, empowered certainly if one heir was facing the other…

Dumbledore stroked his beard, and it occurred to Harry that the answer would take awhile. "Let us begin with the sword coming to Harry's aid in the Chamber of Secrets. May I remind you all of _who_ it was defending?"

"Me." Ginny raised a red eyebrow.

"Yes, has it ever occurred to you, Ginny," Dumbledore spoke her name gently, as if it were made of glass, "That perhaps it wasn't by chance that Lucius Malfoy chose you to have the diary, that Tom Riddle would want your life for his rebirth?"

"What exactly are you implying, Dumbledore?" Arthur's frown deepened alongside Ginny's.

Dumbledore didn't want to deliver the punch line just yet. "We believe that Voldemort left instructions for the diary to specifically be given to the youngest heir of Gryffindor. He wanted Gryffindor's blood in him. The Weasleys are one of the few remaining Pureblood lines, it was you that first met Harry at King's Cross, Ron found Harry in the only compartment left on the Express, Arthur was guarding the Department of Mysteries when they chose to attack last year, Ron was the one who actually found the Prophecy on the shelf in the Department of Mysteries, and the Death Eater's biological weapon was first aimed at Ron…and I believe we're in good hands with Gryffindor's heir leading this country's Wizarding world." Dumbledore folded his long fingers. "As you know, it is rare for every member of a family to end up in the same Hogwarts House. Tonks, Regulus and Sirius weren't in the same one; even the Patil _twins_ are separated. And though choice is involved, so is blood, character…and Fate. The Weasleys, every single Weasley, everyone in the Weasley line has been in Gryffindor dating back to the founding of the school…back to the Hogwarts Four."

Harry actually heard Ron gulp next to him. Arthur looked doubtful. Bill had crossed his arms to his chest but Charlie's usual nonchalant look had barely changed as if the news was hardly surprising. The twins, however, looked positively thrilled. They looked at each other and grinned, "Wicked!"

"You really believe it's Fate that I met Harry?" Ron asked, glancing at his best friend. "I mean, even if we're in Gryffindor's family, how does Harry fit into this?"

"And how do we really know for sure?" Ginny asked what really mattered.

Arthur had left Molly's side and was leaning against the wall. "If my children are the heirs of Gryffindor, why didn't I know? What proof do we have?"

Dumbledore cocked his head at the Sorting Hat. "His word. He keeps track of these things. But he's quite fickle, never really tells me what I _need_ to know until he thinks it's really important."

"The bloody hat told you?" Charlie snickered.

"I believe his exact words were 'Slytherin chose the color green because he was a Parsalmouth, Hufflepuff chose yellow because she was such an optimist, Ravenclaw chose blue because of the color of her eyes and Gryffindor had flaming red hair.' I've never claimed that our ancestors had an entirely normal sense of humor."

Ron patted his own hair as if he needed to touch it to remind him of the color.

"That's our sound evidence?" Bill wondered.

"Oh, yes well, I sort of played dumb for awhile," Dumbledore shrugged, "And finally the Sorting Hat flat out said 'It's the _Weasleys_ you _blockhead_!' When he's not on someone's head he really can be quite rude."

Harry heard the sound of a plane's propeller and looked up to see a tongue disappear back through the slit in the Hat's fabric. Bill sat down on a chair and shifted forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "So what does this mean?"

"Who cares? This is awesome!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione hugged herself, put her fist under her chin and frowned.

"Let's not get excited until we hear this prophecy," Molly squeaked as she spoke up for the first time. Arthur reached out to place his hands on her shoulders. "There's a prophecy _about my children_?"

The boys went instantly silent. "It's a…positive prophecy, right?" Fred asked.

George frowned too. "We know the one about Harry isn't great but not all prophecies are about death, right?" Dumbledore stayed silent. "…right?"

Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed it down at the Pensieve. "Actually you're _part_ of Harry's prophecy." Once again, as the group watched, Sibyl Trelawney rose like a ghost:

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE A POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES…THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…

Harry dropped his eyes, expecting Trelawney to sink back down. But she _continued_.

Harry threw a confused look at Dumbledore, he'd thought the final phrase was just a repeat or a summary of the Prophecy but now Trelawney was reciting new words. Dumbledore didn't meet Harry's eyes and The Boy Who Lived felt the familiar ache of betrayal. Once again, Dumbledore had neglected to tell him something. And as usual, it was damn important.

"…HE WILL LOSE HIS FAMILY AND FIND FAMILY IN THE ANCESTORS OF GODRIC GRYFFINDOR…AND AT THE BATTLE OF ENDINGS THE HEIRS OF GRYFFINDOR WILL BE HIS KNIGHTS…AND WHEN DARK LORD, THE HEIR OF SLYTHERIN OR HIS MARKED EQUAL DIES, ONE OF THE MARKED ONE'S KNIGHTS WILL NOT SURVIVE…"


	20. Filch's Unveiling

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Chapter 19:_

**Filch's Unveiling**

"Good luck, Harry Potter," said Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times." (1, 259)

**-------**

Harry Potter was back in the phase where he flattened his black hair over his scar. He even found himself doing it at night, lying in the darkness where not a soul would see the scar, yet he felt like hiding it.

He knew it wasn't the scar, not really. He was trying to cover so many things: the Prophecy and its recent additions, the pain of losing Remus, the stress of the previous months and the daily war reports in the _Daily Prophet_.

Hermione was not handling any of it well. On the common room couches one night, snuggled against Ron with Harry sitting on the floor in front of them she sputtered "What if there's just never EVER a confrontation between you and Voldemort?" she asked Harry. Her voice sounded like Winky's. Hysteria was growing in her by degrees, "What if we just lock both of you and Ginny and Fred and all of the Weasleys away where Voldemort can't find you, and just leave the Order to deal with him. They'll eventually get him…and you guys won't get hurt…or, or kill—" Ron pulled her against him and Harry reached up and took her hand.

"It'll be all right, Hermione," Harry said, as if he was convinced.

"I'm sure prophecies can be wrong," Ron said. "And who knows? If someone was supposed to die…well, maybe the Prophecy was about Percy?" Hermione buried her face into Ron's chest.

School continued automatically. Harry found himself going through the motions of class and Quiddich with little thought. He was surprised when it was nearly March already. Little had happened since they'd found out that the Weasleys were Gryffindor's heirs and tied into Harry's and Voldemort's Fate. Azkaban continued to be the hive that Death Eater activity sprouted from. Voldemort himself hadn't been sited, and there were very few public attacks from Death Eaters. Harry got the impression that it was a calm before the storm. He found himself drowning out Catalina Krum's Potions lectures and instead doodling ideas on spare parchment about how to bring an offensive to the Dark Lord and his followers. He hated waiting for them to attack him and his friends again, and Harry wondered if it was time to fight back, for once catching them by surprise.

Hermione's efforts were constantly aimed at spellology, the creation of new spells. A debate had been sparked in the _Daily Prophet_ about the Ministry's cover-up of the Detainment Veil and its possible reuse of a prison. Hermione was outraged at (and Sirius was in favor of) the proposal to put any criminal in the Veil. She hoped to find a way to simply destroy the Veil. Nobody deserved that.

"Not even Pettigrew?" Ron had asked. "I'd chuck Dolohov in there if I could, after what he did to you in the Ministry! And what about You-Know-Who himself!"

Ron found himself, uncharacteristically, the only one of the group really paying attention in class anymore. Between Harry's doodles of Azkaban and Hermione's spell formulas, Ron's feeble notes were what really got them through class. In other words, their grades were doomed, as Ron reminded them daily.

The only class they really paid attention in was Transfiguration. Harry had finally learned how to transfigure objects into creatures. His new favorite game was turning Ron's shoes into spiders.

One evening, supper had barely begun when owls swooped into the Great Hall, bringing the last bits of seasonal snow with them to rain down on the students. There were a dozen at first, followed by a dozen more. The amount seemed to multiply each moment as seemingly hundreds of parchments were dropped right on top of Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster had a bit of an amused smile on his face as paper fell into his food. With a twitch of his wand he flattened every rolled message and spread them across the table.

"What the hell is going on?" Ron exclaimed as an owl did dizzy circles around him and then stuck its beak in his pumpkin juice. Ginny was poking another owl with her wand. Harry and Hermione were watching Dumbledore as he read the messages. He seemed to scan just a few before rising with a flourish of his robes. The hall of students, staff and professors silenced instantly and all of the owls fluttered back outside.

Dumbledore whispered something to McGonagall, who went pale, before addressing the students. "Diagon Alley is under attack." The professors started hurrying out of the Great Hall. Snape fished his wand out from his robes as he hurried past the Slytherins. Sprout, Flitwick, Pince and Catalina Krum stayed behind, each going to a different House table.

"Prefects, obey the remaining staff. All students have an immediately curfew after dinner. You are to remain in your Houses until we return." Dumbledore nodded and then left the table. Argus Filch, with Mrs. Norris in his arms, entered the Great Hall with an even deeper crease in his forehead than usual. Dumbledore started for the Gryffindor table while motioning for Filch. They exchanged words for a few moments, and Harry could've sworn that he saw Filch break into the most jovial grin.

Dumbledore came up to Harry, Ron and Hermione before he left the room. Harry was surprised when Dumbledore actually knelt beside them, a slight twinkle in his eye that didn't quite overwhelm his concern. "Would you three be so kind to fetch Hagrid and inform him of the situation? Thank you." Dumbledore patted Harry's shoulder, retrieved his wand and followed his staff out the door.

The three Gryffindors, their cheeks full of half-chewed food, also unsheathed their wands and headed past the rows of nervous students and out the front door, which immediately closed behind them.

"I don't believe this," Hermione raved.

"Do you think they found the Order's headquarters?" Ron wondered aloud.

"I'm sure they're ok," Harry said. He looked at the castle behind them, then picked up his pace a bit. "I don't like this. I don't like it when Dumbledore has to leave…"

"Hey look at that!" Ron had stopped and was staring at a swarm of owls hovering over Hogwarts. "Are those the owls that brought all of those messages?"

"What are they doing?" Harry stopped too. In the setting sun the owls looked ominous.

As they watched, Ron started rubbing the sleeves of his black robe. "Is it me or is it _really_ cold out here?" A puff of his ghost-colored breath froze in the air.

Ahead of them Hermione stopped but she was staring at Hagrid's cabin. "There's no smoke in the chim—Guys? I—I think—"

Harry pivoted to Hermione just as Fang's howls reached their ears. Hermione was pointing at Hagrid's garden. When Harry moved to stand beside her, he saw Hagrid lying facedown in the middle of his pumpkin patch with Fang howling over his body. "Hagrid!" All three friends broke into a run and sprinted towards the cabin.

Even in broad daylight the Forbidden Forest looked menacing. But at sunset, though it was dark, now it was absolutely black. Harry couldn't tell the difference between trees. And as he watched, he could see that the blackness was _moving_.

Harry threw out both arms and caught the other two in the chest. "They sent the owls to Dumbledore…then followed them…Start running," he commanded. Harry raised his wand and stepped forward. "Tell the front doors to lock themselves and get everyone to safety—"

"Harry—"

"Send out owls for help—"

"But Harry what about Hagrid?" Hermione urged. Ron grabbed her hand.

"Just get out of here, both of you!" Harry shoved them away.

"Harry, no!" Ron grabbed his elbow and pulled him towards the castle. The first wave of Dementors emerged from the edge of the forest, gliding towards them. "You know we're not leaving you."

Harry stopped struggling. Lily's screaming erupted inside him and for a moment he felt a weakness that made him teeter. Ron gave him a shake to wake him up. "All right, all right let's go." The boys pushed Hermione ahead and sprinted for the castle. Prongs erupted from Harry's wand and barreled into the approaching phantoms.

"Oh bloody hell, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…" Ron stammered as Hermione's otter sailed past. "Malfoy the ferret, Snape in a dress, new broom—HERMIONE NAKED!" Ron pivoted and a ghostly Snuffles mowed down the first line of Dementors.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Hermione huffed. The blush on her face made Harry laugh out loud. With yards left to the castle the three friends ran even harder, burst into the doors, closed them behind them and sprinted into the Great Hall, already yelling.

They skidded to a stop. Hermione bumped into Harry's back and Ron into hers.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, we were just wondering where you'd run off to." Ron and Harry immediately raised their wands but before they could open their mouths all three wands went flying across the Great Hall to land cleanly in Lucius Malfoy's open palm. "I would appreciate it if you would cooperate."

"Oh no no no," Hermione hiccupped. She latched onto Ron's arm and reached for Harry's sleeve. Harry spread his body in front of them both and looked around the Great Hall. A bead of sweat fell from his black hair onto the rim of his glasses.

There was at least one cloaked and hooded Death Eater for every half-dozen students. Practically a brigade. Professor Flitwick lay unconscious in front of the stage, Sprout and Pince beside him. Catalina stood trembling but defiant with a wand at her throat. The Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were all still in their seats, their food getting cold. A few seventh years and prefects were on the cement floor, unconscious and unmoving. No one had their wands. Well over half of the Slytherins still had their wands and were aiming them at their classmates. Draco Malfoy was glaring at Crabbe and Goyle whose wands were aimed at his chest. Malfoy only blinked when his father passed him on the way to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Lucius and several more Death Eaters did not have their masks on, though many did. Argus Filch stood off to the side of the hall with the students' wands gathered in his hands. Lucius sneered as he passed the trio. He opened the doors to the grounds as Avery moved to the center of the Hall. Harry could feel the Dementors getting closer.

"Well, now that we're all here," Avery rubbed his palms together as if he were choosing to have some dessert rather than terrorizing underage wizards. "Let's divide you all up, shall we? No, not by Houses, not by classes—by blood."

"No!" Both Ron and Harry immediately wrapped their arms around a pale Hermione. They were the only ones who spoke up. Everyone else, though they were glaring, sat quietly in their seats. Avery whirled to sneer at them. "Purebloods by the front stage, Half-bloods in the middle and all of the Mudbloods by the door. NOW."

"Ron," Hermione squeaked.

"Harry they'll kill all of the Muggle-borns!" Ron whispered fearfully, holding Hermione close.

"We're not moving," Harry said defiantly. "We are _not_ splitting up."

None of the other students were stirring either. The Death Eaters practically growled at them. Mrs. Norris purred at Filch's feet. "I'm quite certain I said to move now," Avery reminded them. "No? Well, in that case: _Avada Kedavra_" Green light shot out randomly into the seats and the limp body of Padma Patil fell to the floor with a sickening crash. Pavrati screamed. Avery's wand landed on her.

"Take me!" Harry found himself yelling. "Just leave everyone else alone!"

Avery rolled his eyes impatiently. "We'll get to that soon enough, Potter, I assure you. But for now, move. All of you. And don't make me ask again." The traitorous Slytherins started prodding Muggle-borns with their wands. Slowly, the crowd parted but Ron refused to let to of Hermione.

"Ron, go with Ginny." Hermione pulled herself together and straightened up, wiping her eyes. "I'll be ok."

Harry tugged on his elbow, "They'll just kill you, Ron. You won't be able to help her if you're dead."

The students separated, and through the thinning crowd Avery was staring at the trio, and Lucius was still behind them. Dean Thomas stepped away from the Mudblood group. "Ron I'll stay with her," he offered in a hollow voice. Hermione started to let him lead her away but Ron grabbed at her again.

"Harry!" They turned towards the stage to see a Death Eater grab Ginny by the neck and press his wand into her face.

Harry and Ron both started towards her but the Death Eaters just wanted them separated. Ron turned back to Hermione, took her in his arms and gave her the most passionate kiss a split second would allow. It took the entirety of Harry's mental discipline to not Wandless Magic the place apart when both Ron and Hermione simultaneously said to one another, "I love you."

Dead led Hermione away. Harry tugged on Ron a bit as he headed towards the center of the Hall. "See you soon, mate," Harry said.

Ron turned to face Harry and his expression bruised Harry's heart. "Be careful, Harry. Don't try to be a hero."

"Do I ever really try?" The two best friends clasped the other's left shoulder and then parted.

"What do you think they're going to do with us, Harry?" asked one of the Gryffindor first-years when Harry joined the Half-bloods.

"I can guess, but I'm not sure."

The nearest Slytherin snickered, "I know what we're doing with the _Mudbloods_!"

Harry's fingers itched with Wandless Magic waiting to be unleashed. Dumbledore, Sirius, everyone had told him not to use it in public, to keep it a secret from Voldemort…But there was no way Harry Potter would watch people die if he could help it. He was already forming a plan in his mind. By now, especially after the incident in the Department of Mysteries, Harry was used to planning escapes. If he could just kick Filch in the shins and get some wands distributed…

"Very good." Avery twirled his wand between his long pale fingers. Filch shifted the pile of students' wands in his arm. Harry aimed a furious glance at the caretaker…but could've sworn he received a wink in return. "Now, if the Mudbloods would kindly follow Mr. Malfoy to the dungeons—"

Suddenly there was a soft crack. "Um, _ahem_! Pardon me, sir!"

Avery swung around the explode at the voice behind him that had dared to interrupt, but no one was there.

"Down here, sir."

Harry stretched up on his tiptoes to look past the tables, and gasped. Dobby the House-elf was waving a cheerful hello to a notorious Death Eater.

Avery was equally stunned. He stared at the pile of multi-colored hats between Dobby's pointed ears and the layers of socks on both feet and hands. After recovering from initial shock, Avery let out a deep bellow of laughter.

"You, sir, are not supposed to be here!" Dobby pointed an accusing finger at Avery. "You will not harm Hogwarts' students! You will not harm Harry Potter!"

Avery nearly bent double with laughter. The rest of the Death Eaters (and actually some of the hostages) were holding their stomachs, nearly blue with amusement. Dobby was plucked up by the ear, squirming as Avery tweaked his nose. Hermione's knitted hats tumbled down in a row.

"So this is Dumbledore's protection when he's gone! This is his only defense? House-elves are his secret weapon?" Avery cackled and yanked a sock off. Dobby squeaked in pain. "Why didn't the Dark Lord realize that we wouldn't be able to deal with a few kids and an elf?" He cackled all the harder.

"Well, actually, House-elves are really quite powerful," came a new voice.

Death Eaters, students and House-elf pivoted to stare at Argus Filch. Suddenly, dozens of Hogwarts House-elves Apparated onto the tables.

"And the students, I assure you, are quite armed."

What Harry witnessed next was by far the most astounding sight of his life.

In a smooth, almost slow-motion movement, Argus Filch, jowls quivering, bent at the knees and threw every student wand towards the ceiling. Just then Mrs. Norris, Filch's evil red-eyed cat who had seemed to enjoy watching the students suffer, let out a tiger-like roar and leapt into her master's arms. Gravity was just about to catch up with the wands when Mrs. Norris suddenly morphed from a cat and into a _wand_. Filch lifted the long, thick, cherry oak wand in his gnarled right hand and with the gentlest of flicks, sent each mid-air wand right to the rightful owner like a torpedo. Harry was in such shock that his own bounced off his forehead.

Avery dropped Dobby in all of the commotion. "I thought you were a _Squib_ you traitorous old man!" He advanced on Filch.

The elderly caretaker looked like he'd been waiting his entire life for that moment. He raised his wand and grinned. "No, _I_ am Dumbledore's 'secret weapon'!"


	21. Siege and Showdown

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Chapter 20:_

**Siege and Showdown**

The Great Hall burst into chaotic screams as rainbows of sharp spells zigzagged around and through students, professors, House-elves and Death Eaters. Argus Filch leapt onto the Gryffindor table and with a fierce grin and a magnificent wave of his wand he took down a handful of Voldemort's followers. Through the double doors came a herd of centaurs from the Forbidden Forest. Harry recognized Firenze who caught Avery with a crossbow. The elves were running in between legs, tripping people, using their Wandless powers to tie Death Eaters up. The school ghosts sailed in and Peeves, cackling, chucked Dungbombs, sometimes at the Death Eaters, sometimes at the students. Filch's cackles filled the Hall.

Harry stood frozen a moment too long. Gregory Goyle aimed a spell at him but suddenly Ron was there with a shield in front of them both. Hermione ran over and grabbed their hands, and all three dashed for the hall, jumping over overturned chairs and prone bodies, swerving around centaurs, maneuvering through the stampede of students trying to escape. Half of the students were already crowded at the entrance as the front doors were pulled open. A wave of smothering coldness flowed in and Harry's knees buckled from the dementors' presence. He had to grab onto Ron to keep from falling over. Some first and second years were slumping to the ground as well. Hermione shouted a spell that sealed the front doors, then another to seal the entrance to the Great Hall, leaving the students in the lobby area.

"Shut up and listen to the Head Boy!"

"No! Shut up and listen to Harry!"

What happened next startled Harry as much as Filch had. Hermione had climbed up a few stairs and her wand spread her voice across the panicked students so strong and sudden that they all froze and listened.

"Everyone SHUT IT! Listen up NOW!" Harry had the urge to salute her. She pointed at Ron and Harry and waved them forward. "We need to escape but not to the grounds! Follow me to the Room of Requirement and we'll create some fireplaces connected to the Floo network!" Just then a pounding came from the outside door to the grounds and from inside the Great Hall. Footsteps were rumbling from the direction of the Slytherin dungeons. And the dementors were about to come through.

Hermione pushed the nearest student up the stairs, "Move it! Get out however you can! Protect the younger students and try to stay higher on the floors and staircases than the Death Eaters! GO!"

Harry took Ron by the shoulder, "Follow Hermione—I'll bring up the rear."

"Stay right behind us, mate," Ron said, shooting Harry an anxious look before taking the steps up three at a time. The noise in the Great Hall was getting softer, but it was difficult to tell who was winning.

Prefects stepped forward and quickly gathered students and set off. Most everyone seemed to calm down and focus. The front doors were beginning to warp, folding inward. The dementors were nearly through. Harry waved the other students in front of him. Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs scurried after Hermione, their wands drawn. Another batch of Death Eaters burst out of the hallway leading to the Slytherin dungeons just as the dementors came through the front doors. Harry, the last going up the stairs, launched Prongs into the liquid shadows. The Death Eaters were right behind him. Spells shot past his head from all directions.

And then the staircases began to move.

Harry was thrown off his feet. He hit the steps and grabbed the railing as the staircase bucked. A Death Eater who hadn't been ten steps behind him fell over the railing and into the river of dementors below. The staircase below Harry was also shaking violently, shaking off every Death Eater while the ones above were holding still as the students climbed.

"Harry, move it!" Harry heard Ron yell from above. Harry pulled himself up, put his wand safely in his robes and started climbing again. As soon as he left one staircase it would start moving so that no one else could climb. When Harry neared the second floor a nearby portrait started yelling for him to look out. Harry grabbed the robes of a couple Gryffindors beside him and yanked them down as Death Eaters appeared on the floor and shot spells at them. The peasants in the portrait stuck their tongues out.

Sir Cadogan shoved the peasants out of the way and called to Harry "They've shut down the magical wards around Hogwarts, the knaves! They can Apparate!"

Harry aimed his wands at the nearest Death Eaters before calling "Hermione! HERMIONE! They're Apparating!"

Hermione, four floors up, leaned over the railing. "But that's impossible! _Hogwarts, A History_ says that no one can Apparate within Hogwarts!" Just then Death Eaters appeared on the floor above her, and on various places on the stairs.

"Yes, Hermione, keep saying that to the Death Eaters Apparating around us!" Harry heard Ron yell from the middle of the students.

Spells started ricocheting up and down the stairs. Harry watched in horror as a Ravenclaw girl was hit in the chest by a spell. She collapsed against the railing and fell over it, unconscious, towards the bottom floor. Students started screaming, some crouching against the stairs in fear, others separating from the group running down the hallways.

"Stick together!" Harry heard a Hufflepuff Prefect yell. A moment later the kid was hit in the stomach with a red spell and he collapsed.

"Bloody—" Harry cursed. The steps were chaotic and he was at the second floor. When the idea occurred to him he yelled to the students around him, "This way! Come on! Follow me!" Harry pointed down the hall towards Myrtle's bathroom while he held off a Death Eater he recognized as Macnair.

"Harry!" Ginny was suddenly beside him. Her hair was pulled back and her cheeks were red. "There are about fifty students with us. Where do you want us to go?" Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and guided her and the other students inside the girl's bathroom. By the candlelight reflected off of the bathroom mirrors Harry found the copper tap with the snakes. Harry focused on Parseltongue and told the Chamber of Secrets to "open up."

"It's ok," Harry told the gathered students. "Just slide down and hide there. Ginny's been in there. Nobody else knows about it so you'll be ok." Harry turned to Ginny to have her slide down first but found her still and pale. "Ginny—Ginny!"

Ginny broke out of her trance and looked at Harry as if she didn't know anyone else was around her. She shook her head. "I can't go back in there. I can't, Harry I can't—I, I still have dreams…"

Suddenly screams came from down the hall and they all heard footsteps nearing. Harry took Ginny by the shoulders and shook her. "You have to! They're coming and there's no where else to go! You'll be safe there, I promise! Please, I have to know that you'll be ok—" Harry found himself staring deeply into Ginny's blue eyes. She was staring back, and Harry realized that his hands were still on her shoulders.

And then Ginny stretched up on her tiptoes, kissed Harry on the cheek, turned and disappeared into the tunnel. The other students followed her, including Luna, Dennis and Dean among others that were in the group. Harry waved them all down and when the last one disappeared into the Chamber of Secrets he sealed the tunnel behind them, just as Nott and Rookwood ran by, noticed the light in the bathroom, and looked in to see Harry's wand pointed at them.

"Well, well," Nott sneered. He lowered his own wand and folded his arms as if all three of them were old friends. "If it isn't the Potter brat."

Rookwood advanced, his wand pointed at Harry's. "We know other students came this way. Where are they, Potter!"

Harry simply glared back. The entrance to the Chamber was shut safely behind him. He hoped Ron and Hermione were alright.

"_Stupefy_!"

Nott crumpled. Rookwood whirled around to the entrance of the bathroom and Harry immediately stunned him from behind. The Death Eaters were unconscious.

Draco Malfoy stood at the door. His blonde hair was disheveled, his eyes blazing, and his left arm appeared useless because of a bloody slash. Harry wondered if Draco's father had caused it. "If you ever speak of this," Draco hissed, lowering his wand, "I'll sever your balls."

Harry snorted. "Come on." He brushed past Draco and broke into a run for the staircases where the fighting continued.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Harry leaned over the railing and saw that the dementors were still gliding through the first floor. "_Expecto Patronum_!"

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Draco yelled from beside him.

Harry could've sworn a ferret came out of Malfoy's wand.

"We have to get to the seventh floor!" Harry said as he stepped onto the staircase. The steps had been vibrating but stilled when he touched them.

"What the hell is up there?"

"The way out!" Harry left Draco behind and started darting up the stairs. Harry ran as fast as he could, wanting to get away from the dementors more than towards safety. The stairs were covered with bodies of students and Death Eaters but Harry knew he had no time to check them. He heard Draco climbing behind him. Right before they reached Barnabas the Barmy the door to the Room of Requirement flew open and two people stumbled out.

"Hermione! Ron!" Harry spread his arms and Hermione fell into his hug.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione squeezed him. "We got everyone to the Ministry through the Floo network but couldn't leave without knowing—Malfoy?"

Ron moved between Harry and Draco and put his wand to the Slytherin's chest. Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder and just then a green spell grazed Harry's black hair. The four students whirled around to find Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy and Mulciber nearing them. Lucius aimed a spell at his own son but Draco ducked. Voldemort's followers were between them and the Room of Requirement and Harry shoved the other three towards Gryffindor Tower.

"Hurry up, hurry up!" The Fat Lady screeched, opening for them and instantly locking the door behind when they passed. They heard her yelling at the Death Eaters about how rude they were.

When Harry, Hermione, Ron and Draco got to the 6th year boy's dormitory the Death Eaters were in the Gryffindor common room. Harry threw open a window and immediately ducked his head back inside as a spell flew into the air.

"Bloody _hell_!" said Ron when he looked past Harry and down at the Hogwarts grounds.

The lake was completely drained. Dead mermaids lay among a twitching giant squid. The Whomping Willow had been reduced to kindling, the main trunk burning with the green fire. The Forbidden Forest was on fire as well. Smoke billowed across the sky.

But the Order had arrived.

And so had the professors. All of them, including Dumbledore, were on broomsticks and sailing over the Forbidden Forest to land on the grounds and join the fight against the dementors and Death Eaters. Harry was reminded of Fawkes coming to him in his second year because of his loyalty to Dumbledore. He was extremely glad Dumbledore himself came this time.

Dumbledore landed smoothly, lifted his wand and Harry actually heard him yell "_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!" A tingle went up Harry's spine as a phoenix twice the size of a dragon erupted from the headmaster's wand. Amazingly every dementor touched by the patronus shriveled up. Their ashes became a gruesome snow globe swirling around Hogwarts.

"Holy-!" Malfoy gasped when he looked down at the battle below, his right hand clenched around the wound on his left arm.

"Hush!" Hermione hissed. The three boys turned to her. They could hear the Death Eaters getting close to the room. "How are we going to get out of here?" Hermione gasped. Ron stepped forward and took her in his arms. Draco looked repulsed.

Harry looked back out the window. "I don't know…Can we get to the roof?" Hermione shook her head.

"Shit," Draco hissed. "We're dead."

Harry looked around the dorm room as if a secret tunnel would appear.

Suddenly a gust of wind blasted so hard through the open window that Harry was almost knocked down. Ron ran to the window and stuck his head out. "Do you hear that? Doesn't that sound like wings—"

"Dragons!" Harry yanked Ron back inside the window as a spurt of fire was burped across the tower.

A massive black Norwegian Ridgeback spiraled down the side of the tower and distinct Weasley hair could be spotted on the armored rider.

"Charlie!" Ron shouted. He jumped up and pumped his fist. "CHARLIE! Help us!"

Charlie Weasley pushed thick goggles off of his face and grinned at his little brother. "Easy, Norbert!" he shouted at the dragon. "Ron! Hermione, Harry, just crawl slowly up his neck and I'll get you out of here!" A red spell flashed past Charlie's hands and Norbert reared up with a roar. Charlie tugged on his reins and held the dragon steady by the tower window. "Bloody hell! Ron, come on! Hurry!"

"Hermione first!" Ron grabbed Hermione by the waist and pushed her towards the window. They had to squint through the wind caused by the dragon's wings and their hair and robes flapped back. Smoke from the forest made the night sky even darker while a warm fog from the spells below formed grotesque clouds among the dementor ashes.

"Ron, I'm terrified!" Hermione gasped. Someone screamed below them. Ron reached out and patted Norbert's head.

"It's ok, it's ok," Ron assured her, though his voice was as shaky as hers. "You just have to crawl a little bit, I'll be right behind you. If you start to slip Charlie will grab you." Ron grabbed her hand and helped her onto the windowsill. "I won't let you fall, Hermione, I promise."

Harry could see her visibly relax. Hermione stuck her wand in her pocket, patted Norbert's nose and then reached out for Charlie's hand. She crawled out, with Ron keeping his hand on her back as he followed. Charlie struggled to hold Norbert still and succeeded and after a few moments, Hermione was behind Charlie with Ron behind her. Harry and Draco moved to the window as Norbert flexed and snorted under the extra weight.

"Hey wait!" Charlie looked from Ron to Harry and then to Draco. "Norbert can only handle so much weight! I don't think he can handle five of us!"

Harry and Draco looked at each other. Hermione's eyes widened. Norbert snorted impatiently at them all.

Draco rolled his eyes, stuck his wand in his robes and sat down on the nearest bed. "Guess who has to stay behind…"

Harry took a steadying breath. "No, go on," he said, regretting his choice already. He brushed his black hair out of his face and remembered not to mention that Malfoy had probably saved his life. Ron started to protest and Harry raised his hand. "Just land and come back for me, I can hold out."

"Harry three Death Eaters are about to come through that door!" Hermione choked. "We're not leaving you here."

"Malfoy is going!" Harry pushed Draco towards the window. "And you're wasting time. If you want to help me then hurry!"

Draco cursed under his breath, and managed to quickly crawl across Norbert's neck. The dragon growled and struggled to hover. Hermione shrieked and wrapped her arms around Charlie's waist. Norbert's wings began to flap harder but Charlie tried to calm him. "Sorry, Harry!" he yelled over the dragon's whines. "I'll hurry!"

Harry made eye contact with Ron and Hermione before Charlie steered Norbert away. Hermione began shouting for him and Harry heard tears in every letter of his name. Ron stared at his best friend until they were out of sight of each other. Norbert sailed through the ashes and fog towards Hogsmeade where Harry saw other dragons assembled protectively over the town.

And then Harry heard wood cracking behind him and when he turned, three wands were at pointed at his chest.

"Potter!" Lucius Malfoy hissed. Mulciber grinned and Lestrange cackled so hard that she had to hold her stomach. The candlelight in the dorm room and the red fog outside cast grotesque shadows across the Death Eaters' faces. Harry raised his wand and backed up until he was against the windowsill.

"Where's my son?" Lucius spat. "I had a small hope that he had killed you, but now I hope he fell out the window." Harry said nothing. "_Expelliarmus_!" Harry blocked it. The red light bounced through the room, making it feel claustrophobic, especially for a duel.

"Oh I wish the Dark Lord was here," Lestrange jeered. "But we'll be sure to make this a clean kill. Maybe we can preserve your body and turn you into a statue and I can _play_ with you everyday, Potter."

"Shall we all do the Killing Curse at the same time?" Mulciber asked as if he were ordering for them at the Leaky Cauldron. "On three?" Malfoy, Lestrange and Mulciber all aimed their wands and smiles at Harry's heart. Lucius' eyes blazed. "One…two…"

After one syllable Harry bent at the knees and jumped backwards. He fell out of the window and his shoes were just out of the tower when three streaks of green light shot out. His glasses flew off as he fell, but Harry kept his fist clenched around his wand. He was freefalling. No Firebolt in sight, no Dumbledore keeping an eye on him to slow his momentum, no dragon below him. All he heard were screams…Harry Potter closed his eyes and waited to die.

Something grabbed him around the waist. He fell a few more yards, his momentum slowing as he went, and when he stilled and hovered, Harry opened his eyes and found himself in Sirius Black's arms, hovering above the grounds on a broom.

"You _maniac_," Sirius gasped as they landed. "You really are your father's son, I swear. Merlin, Harry, you're your father's son. If I hadn't been the death of him, he would've been the death of me. _Merlin_, Harry!"


	22. The Council of Dumbledore

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Chapter 21:_

**The Council of Dumbledore**

The Basement was full of long candles, eerie shadows and robed figures. All of the tents had been folded up and Vanished. So many protective wards had been constructed that Harry could feel all of the magic in the room. Crammed below Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was, well, everyone. All leaders in the wizarding world, plus a bunch of kids. Harry sat between Ginny and Ron, who was holding hands with Hermione. Fred and George sat next to their sister, both looking uncharacteristically somber. When Nymphadora Tonks came down the stairs from the shop, her hair limp and brown, George got up to meet her, then lead her to the row of chairs against the back wall where they all sat. The room was gradually filling with witches and wizards. They whispered to each other, shook hands, cast anxious glances at Harry Potter. Molly kept summoning more and more chairs around the perimeter of the room, the center being the long oak library table. In the largest chair sat at the head of the table sat a grim-faced Albus Dumbledore.

When Arthur Weasley and Amos Diggory came out of the fireplace everyone in the room rose in respect. Aurors and the Order, Ministry officials and professors, family and friends opposed to Voldemort and his Death Eaters quieted down and took their seats. The co-ministers sat down on either side of Dumbledore. Molly was beside her husband with Bill and Charlie directly behind them. McGonagall, Sirius, Catalina Krum and Snape were there. Harry didn't recognize most of the 70 or so people in the room, but they all seemed to recognize him.

"Is this a good time for our new Whomping Whoopee-Cushions?" Harry heard Fred whisper to George.

Dumbledore gathered his robes, scooted his chair away with the backs of his knees and rose. "As you all know, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was attacked a week ago." His voice would've echoed if the room wasn't so stuffy. Dumbledore leaned against the table and bowed his head for a moment to compose himself. When he straightened up again he raised his chin and swallowed. "Many lives were lost. Many children. We've called this meeting a year too late…at least. I hope you all realize how serious the situation is. We need to improve our defenses. At our schools, our businesses, our offices…Nationally and internationally. And we need ideas. Tonight we must have some." Harry stared at Dumbledore's eyes through the candlelight and saw no trace of their characteristic spark.

The assembled witches and wizards shifted uncomfortably in their seats and exchanged glances, but nobody spoke up. Dumbledore looked around the room for a moment longer before taking his seat again. Hermione, her eyes rimmed with redness, sat up straighter, a frown across her eyebrows. Sirius put his face in his hands.

Growing up as a Muggle, Harry had heard of the concept of a light bulb appearing over someone's head when they had an idea. He supposed the light above his head was more like a candle slowly brightening. How many doodles had he drawn during Binns' classes? How close had Hermione gotten with her new spells? How sick was he of waiting to be killed? Everyone was keen to hide, to form defensives.

What if they went to Voldemort instead of waiting for him to come to them?

Suddenly Harry realized that he was on his feet, and that every face in the Basement was turned towards him.

"Harry?" said Dumbledore. "Do you have something to say?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I have an idea."

-------

By midnight the Council of Dumbledore was nearing adjournment. "So we'll rendezvous at the perimeter of Azkaban at sunset," Dumbledore was summarizing. "If Harry's plan works, the war may be over by this time tomorrow." And the meeting concluded with goodnights and blessings.

Ron and Harry reopened one of the tents and they, Hermione and Ginny settled in for the night. They were quiet and anxious. Hermione opened up rolls of parchment and used her wand to make illustrations for the following day. "So I'll stay out of the fire and do the incantation," she rehearsed. "But Harry, you shouldn't have to worry about the IF. Maybe someone else could open it?"

"I'll do it." Ginny sat down beside Hermione, a determined look on her face.

"No way!" Ron practically exploded. "You're not going." He leaned over Ginny as if she were smaller than a house-elf and pointed a finger in her face. "If this is the battle that bloody prophecy about us is…about, you are _not_ going to be there!"

Harry and Hermione both scooted away from the siblings. They could smell flared Weasley tempers a mile away.

Ginny blinked at her brother for a moment before squaring her shoulders. "Ok."

"I mean it, Gin! You are not—what?"

Ginny shrugged. "I said ok. I won't go."

Ron's mouth remained open in shock for several moments before he took a step backwards. "Well, well then…good. Right. Right." Ron turned back to Hermione. "I'll take care of the IF." Harry and Hermione knew better than to insist that he stay behind, but Harry started to offer a third option. "You worry about Voldemort, Harry," said Ron. "I'll take care of the transportation.

"And I'll stay with Hermione," Sirius offered as he entered the tent. "She shouldn't be alone, even if Dumbledore will be the first to intercept Voldemort when he goes through, we'll need backup."

Harry nodded and was grateful when no one else happily volunteered themselves. It would've been hard enough to keep track of Hermione, but now he would have to worry about Ron, and Sirius as well. He didn't want to be distracted, but it would help if Voldemort was. _But what if he lost them, one of them…all three…_

An hour later Ron and Hermione were asleep together on the floor with Sirius snoring in a hammock. Harry and Ginny sat in the candlelight thinking about what was going to happen the following day.

"You _are_ going to stay behind, right?" Harry whispered to Ginny when he saw that she was about to fall asleep.

Curled on her side, her arm cushioning her cheek, Ginny opened her eyes the slightest bit. She looked at Harry, but showed no reaction or response to his question.

Harry shuffled over to her and brought his face close to hers. "Ginny, I'm serious. Stay. Here. Please—for me."

Her cheeks were white and her lips were red and when they met Harry's something flared inside him so strong that Harry couldn't let go of her all night.


	23. The Battle of Endings

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Chapter 22:_

**The Battle of Endings**

"And what do you mean, you're my second?"  
"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually…"But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards…"  
-Harry, Ron (1, 154)

**Author's Note:** I do believe this is the part of the story known as the climax.:) This is the part that all of the other chapters are written for…Oh, dear God…Here we go…

-------

Harry soared, invisible and on a broomstick, around the perimeter of Azkaban. He could feel the dementors patrolling the shore below, could see at least a hundred Death Eaters, a few giants and dragons. And then, there _he_ was. Voldemort. Right in the center courtyard of the prison, sitting on a throne with Nagini circling around him. And he was…reading a book? Harry almost laughed.

Instead he aimed his wand at the moon and shot a single red spark. All around the skies above Azkaban and the water came more sparks. Not quite a firework display that would alert their enemies but bright enough for everyone looking for them to see. That was the signal. Harry took a deep breath and said aloud, "Here we go." Below him came a rumble. And above him Disillusionment charms trickled off of dozens of dragons in flight. The moonlight was blocked by wings and the dragons screeched so loudly that Harry had to grab his ears. A hundred Aurors flew across the water on brooms, wands already shooting spells at Azkaban. Harry watched Voldemort calmly put his book down, turn his red eyes towards the sky and draw his wand. He took down a dragon with a single swipe of magic. The offensive had begun.

Charlie and Norbert flew past Harry who followed them down. The air was thick with Patronuses driving the dementors away from the shore and into the prison cells. In the center of the courtyard the ground was moving. Just like at the Quiddich World Cup, a bomb came out of a hold dug by Muggle machinery and a 360 degree Stunner blast too out every Death Eater within fifty yards. Voldemort had only been a few feet from the blast radius but the spell did little more than trip him. The Order emerged from the hole and joined the fight. Harry stayed close to Norbert with Charlie snipering. When Voldemort looked satisfactorily distracted, Harry whispered a rare prayer, and dove.

He was thrown from his broom. He'd been above and behind Voldemort, but the Dark Lord knew Harry was there. When Harry hit the ground he rolled, then ducked behind a staircase. "Great," he huffed. "This is going splendidly."

A green spell flew by Harry. He was thankful that the Killing Curse had so many syllables. Make it easier to dodge. "_Diffindo_!" Harry dropped to his knees, rolled to his right and grinned at Voldemort's growl of frustration. "Potter!" The Dark Lord, his black robes flowing and red eyes blazing, stamped across the courtyard to him. "Hold still, boy!" Harry managed to get a shield charm up at the next bombardment.

Suddenly Voldemort and Harry ducked away from their duel as a body was launched across the courtyard by a giant. A moment later the same giant was picked up by the talons of a dragon and dumped into the water. Voldemort hissed and rose to his full height, cockily bothering to straighten his robes. Harry rose, a bit shakily, taking the moment to prepare himself mentally as well as physically. Voldemort's sneer was coated with something inhumanly sinister, his face contorted with premature triumph.

"Is this all you and your friends can muster?" Voldemort sneered. "You should've run and hide, Potter. But no matter. This will end tonight. The prophecy will be fulfilled with your death!" Harry said nothing. They circled each other. "You, Potter, will have a front seat in Hell to watch what I'm going to do to all of your friends." Harry swallowed. The noise around them was deafening and something was burning. "I think I'll start by _taking_ that Granger. Then each Weasley, slowly, oldest to youngest…But I'll keep the girl, that Virginia alive, to help me _celebrate_—"

"_Impedimenta_!"

"_Reducto_!"

"_Stupefy_!"

"_Expelliarmus_! _Accio_ wand!"

Harry's wand flew into Voldemort's open hand. Harry stumbled, feeling naked without his weapon. He'd attacked out of anger, the image of Voldemort within arms-length of Ginny enraging him. But the anger had blinded his concentration, and now he was disarmed. Voldemort cackled, his back arching from the force. "_Emral Flamaria_!" The green flame pounced on Harry's wand and swallowed it, the ashes exhaled away. Voldemort stepped forward, his own wand at Harry's chest, and backed Harry to a stairwell.

"_Imperio_!" Harry had been about to take out his Wandless Magic but failed to block the Unforgivable. He would've kicked himself if he could. "Stand still, Harry. Be still and watch as I kill you. And now, Potter," spat Voldemort. The Dark Lord tightened his grip on Harry's wrists and angled his palms to the ground. "_Now_, terrified and helpless and alone, you will die—"

"_PROPELLO_!"

Harry's body was jolted out of Voldemort's grasp and whipped to the ground in a violent twist. Harry coughed into the dirt, the wind knocked out of him. He raised his head to see Voldemort disappear through an Inflatable Fireplace.

A dirty, sweaty Ron Weasley poked his head around the IF. "Did he go through?"

A hand was suddenly in Harry's dizzy eyesight and Harry let it yank him up. He blinked. "G-Ginny?" There were tears in her eyes. Fierce ones that looked like they stung. She'd saved him, she'd saved him. The IF stood open directly behind her. Harry reached out and pulled her to him and she sobbed into his chest.

"Harry—Harry I thought he hurt—I'm sorry, I just couldn't, couldn't just stay behind—"

"I know, I know," Harry leaned into her and she held him up. Blood from his scar dripped down her neck and Ginny shivered. A Death Eater, his cloaks on fire, flew over their heads. "I need to get you out of here, Ginny."

Ron had his wand pointed at the IF, keeping it open. "Harry, we gotta go!" Ron wiped blood from his lips and tossed another IF to his sister. "Ginny, take that and get out of here! I mean it!" Ginny rolled her eyes and pocketed the IF. "Gin, please!"

"Ron, go through, I'll be there in a minute." Harry instructed him. "Ron you have to protect Hermione!"

That got his attention. He pointed a finger at Harry, "If you don't come through this in 30 seconds I'm coming back for you, all right?" Harry nodded and Ron, after a settling breath, stepped into the fireplace.

Ginny placed her hands on Harry's chest. Her jaw was set in pure Weasley stubbornness. "I am not leaving until I know you're ok."

"Ginny," Harry inhaled. His eyes dropped to her lips. But suddenly he felt her tense under his touch. She was staring past him. His eyes widened and in an instant she pounced on him and shoved Harry out of a flash of green light.

"GINNY!" Harry screamed as he was pushed involuntarily into the IF. He twisted as he fell, and looked back in time to see the smirk on Lucius Malfoy's face as Ginny collapsed, limp, still, silenced.

Dead.

"_NO_!"

-------

Harry was still screaming when he landed in the Death Chamber, in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. When he was chucked into the Death Chamber by the IF he fell right over top of Ron who'd been bending to help a bleeding Sirius up. The exit of the IF disappeared behind him. The dais stood at his right, the Veil fluttering in its invisible wind. When Harry looked to his left he screamed again.

Albus Dumbledore lay spread-eagled, _dead_ on the cement floor.

"Harry!"

At Hermione and Ron's warning Harry instinctively ducked as Voldemort aimed a spell at him. Harry dived behind the dais where his two friends were. From her knees surrounded by parchment, Hermione pulled him into a quick hug and asked if he was ok.

"Yeah—yeah sure," Harry said automatically. _Ginny_. "Are we set?"

Hermione nodded. Her fist was clenched around her wand and she used it to point at the parchment on the top of the pile. "It will probably take a minute for it to happen, but I think I have the incantation figured out. Just give me the signal when you're about to do—Harry! Where's your wand?"

"Burn—gone." Harry was out of breath. He bent at his waist and Hermione put her hands on his shoulders.

"Here." Harry looked up to see Ron handing him his wand. All three huddled together behind the dais as spells continued to ricochet around the Death Chamber. "Take it, Harry."

"No, no I can do it Wandless."

"Harry, you can't use the Killing Curse Wandless!" Hermione gasped. "Without the wand it will be inside you! It'll kill you!"

Harry swatted Ron's hand away. "I'm not leaving any of you without a w—_Merlin_!" Ron and Harry pushed Hermione to the floor as Sirius Black slammed into the wall beside them and crumpled to the floor. "Sirius!" Harry helped him up. "You all right?"

Sirius held his hands to his stomach and leaned against the dais, all four of them hiding behind the Veil's pedestal. He moaned and Harry had to hold him up for a moment. "Snape is handling him better than I was." Sirius coughed and put his wand in his robes. "I don't like this, Harry, we're caged in here."

"And so is Voldemort."

Sirius looked past Harry. "But without Dumbledore…"

"Anytime now, Potter!" They heard Severus Snape call in his annoyed voice.

"You traitorous bastard!" Voldemort hissed at Snape.

Sirius took a deep breath and straightened his robes. "I really am tempted to Apparate us all away and leave Snape with Voldemort…though I think being mauled by a werewolf would be a more fitting death."

"Take the right?" Harry asked. Sirius nodded, and Harry indicated that Ron should stay with Hermione, then he went to the left around the dais.

Harry looked around the dais to see Sirius dive into the duel between Snape and Voldemort. "_Expelliarmus_!" Voldemort reflected the spell back and it nearly hit Snape. Harry had never seen Lord Voldemort look so irate. He lashed out at Snape and Sirius so violently that Harry cringed at the sight. Snape appeared poised as he danced around Voldemort, his wand over his head, spitting spells like a cobra. Sirius kept moving, circling around Voldemort, trying to flank him, but the Dark Lord seemed able to handle them both. He seemed to have eyes out of the back of his head.

And out of the side of it, apparently, when he suddenly pivoted and aimed a spell at Harry. Harry dived forward and Snape and Sirius both aimed Stunning Spells to distract Voldemort. And then, when Harry was on his feet and had the Dark Lord in plain sight, he gathered his inner powers and launched a fireball of power at Voldemort.

Voldemort was actually knocked off his feet. Harry felt dizzy and the palm of his right hand stung. Sirius immediately went to his side, and Snape to his other, and all three pointed their wands or hands at Voldemort. Lord Voldemort gathered his robes and seemed to float up to his feet. His red eyes took in the three men and a sickly smile grazed his pale lips. He advanced on them where they stood by Dumbledore's body. Ron and Hermione peeked around the dais.

"You're ridiculous fools, thinking you can stand against me," said Voldemort, drawing out each word and crescendoing them, so that his hisses echoed through the Death Chamber. "All that you will accomplish will be your deaths."

"Not before yours, ugly," Sirius smirked. Harry wanted to elbow him for being smart-aleck.

Voldemort leveled his wand on Snape who stared stonily back. "You disappoint me, Severus. I thought I knew your mind." Snape twisted his wand as well as his smile, but said nothing. It was then that Voldemort realized Harry's spell had come from Wandless fingers. His eyes narrowed. The tension in the chamber thickened and sharpened, poised on a springboard over a pool of tarantulas.

Voldemort actually took a deep breath before shouting his spell, "_Kroksemtatum_!" Not one but three explosions of silver light burst from his wand and headed for each man. Sirius ducked, Snape deflected it, Harry caught the spell in his palm and drove it into the cement.

The spell meant for Sirius ricocheted off the wall and was batted back again by Voldemort, as did the spell that Snape repelled. Voldemort shot the spell again and five bullets headed for them. Harry caught one, and Sirius another, but three wrapped themselves around Snape's neck and dragged him to the floor. Snape struggled for a moment, then passed out with a choking sound. Harry paused long enough to keep Snape from strangling, but now it was just him and Sirius.

Voldemort caught Harry in his wand and raised him from the ground. Harry scratched at his own neck with his fingers and his powers but he felt himself choking. And then the Cruciatus Curse hit him like a Bludger. Harry was hovering in mid-air, his limbs flailing out in pain and his mouth wide open with screams. He couldn't get his hand up to deflect the spell.

"Harry!" He opened his eyes long enough to see Sirius literally tackle Voldemort to the ground. Harry slammed against the dais and his head was the first body part to hit the cement ground. He moaned as the Death Chamber dangled dizzily in front of him. Harry's head throbbed, blood strayed down his neck from the gash somewhere in his black hair. His arms felt too heavy to flex. The footsteps stalking towards him were grunting gutturally only to be silenced when Sirius slid into view. Voldemort bellowed at him but the gong echoing painfully in Harry's head drowned out that and what was most likely a smart-alecky reply from Sirius. When they started dueling Harry tried once again to get up but only managed to raise his head.

"Harry! HARRY!" Hermione's voice penetrated his senses. "Harry, get up, come on! Come on, Harry, get up!" The urgency in her voice fueled him. He managed to get to his knees but realized with a panic that he hadn't been breathing. The first wheeze hurt. Blood sputtered from his lips. Aftershocks from the Cruciatus made him dizzy.

Lord Voldemort flung Sirius aside and advanced again. Harry was still on his knees. Hermione screamed—and suddenly Ron was in front of them, posture straight, and wand up, fists clenched. Voldemort growled but Ron took the offensive first and Harry spotted an inhuman blaze in Ron's eyes as he and Voldemort circled, their spells rocketing from their wands in fiery rainbows. Harry was momentarily stunned: Ron was fighting Voldemort—_Ron_ was _dueling_ with the Dark Lord.

"HARRY!"

Harry stood shakily, willing the room to stop spinning. He leaned against the dais and for a moment, vaguely wondered where the light in the room came from. Ron yelped as he dodged a green spell by rolling to the ground. He sprang right back up but Voldemort deflected his counter curse and the red light ricocheted over Hermione's head. Sirius was suddenly at Harry's side, gasping for breath. He put something in front of Harry's mouth: Wizard chocolate. Something was jump started in Harry's mind and the room came into focus again as if Harry had just needed to sober up. Sirius asked him if he was ok.

"This isn't a Quiddich game you _disgrace_ of a Pureblood!" Voldemort hissed at Ron who'd deflected another spell with Keeper-like reflexes. Voldemort actually looked…winded. And thoroughly annoyed.

"You murdered my brother you bastard!" Ron spat back. He looked surprised at his own courage. His voice was strong and unfretted. "You've hurt my sister, and my best friend—" Ron got Voldemort in the knee with a Numbing Charm. "You bloody—"

Sirius dived back into the duel and he and Ron shot spells at Voldemort continuously, a constant assault that drove Voldemort against the far wall. Hermione held onto Harry's arm as they watched, terrified.

Voldemort was struggling to fend off the spells. His face contorted with effort, as if he were trying to break up Priori Incantatem. Hermione had her hand to her mouth, gasping along with every spell. And then Voldemort simply got mad. With a mighty sweep of his wand and a disarming spell, Ron's wand flew to his hand and he pointed two wands at Sirius. Sirius went flying across the room, smashed into the wall, and fell next to Snape. A single squeak came from Ron. Harry instantly stepped forward but it was too late. Ron went flying into the air as well.

Harry dashed forward and he heard Hermione shout from behind him "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" and she lowered Ron softly to the floor. Harry ran past Ron and caught up with Voldemort.

"_Diffindo_!" the Dark Lord yelled, pointing at Harry's legs.

Harry pivoted. He aimed his right hand and shouted "_Expelliarmus_!" Harry caught the wand, allowed himself a smile, and snapped the wand in half. He looked back up at Voldemort, expecting the Dark Lord to be and look defeated. But that snaky smile was still there.

"Where do you think you got your Wandless powers from, Potter?" Voldemort asked.

"Oh shit—" Harry dodged a stunner that came from Voldemort's right palm. The Dark Lord cackled gleefully and suddenly he was on Harry, his fingers around his neck as Harry lay on his back. Harry pushed him up and they rolled across the floor until they hit the dais. Hermione squeaked nearby.

"You're putting up more of a fight than your father did," Voldemort snickered as he slammed Harry into the stairs. "And you're quieter than your mother. But I'll make you scream. I'll make you scream."

And Voldemort grasped Harry's right arm, his Wandless Magic arm, and broke it right over his knee. Harry threw his head back and let out a wet scream. Voldemort smacked him across his face and Harry kicked up. Voldemort fell backwards to the floor. Harry tried to raise his arm for a curse but found that he couldn't move it. He groaned and clenched his eyes shut as pain as strong as the Cruciatus throbbed through his entire body. Hermione screamed in the background. Harry used his left arm to push himself up to his feet, and then on up the stairs to the high ground. From his angle next to the Veil he didn't have to raise his broken right arm to put up a shield against Voldemort's next spell. Voldemort seemed to glide up the steps until he was practically face to face with Harry. Both raised (or tried to) their palms to the other while the Veil fluttered next to them.

"And now our dilemma, I'm sure you know, Potter, is this: if either of us attempts the Killing Curse using Wandless Magic, we will kill the other, but part of that curse goes through ourselves and may kill us as well." Voldemort positioned himself even closer, towering over Harry who could smell his foul breath and see all the shades of red in his murderous eyes. "I am willing to take the chance that I may die, Potter, because I have died before and was reborn. If I kill you then the prophecy—yes, I know of it—will be fulfilled and therefore I live. But I'm ready to accept my own death…are you ready for yours?"

Harry steeled himself. He felt sure his heart was about to burst anyways. And then he moved to beat Voldemort to the punch. He spoke, softly but very, very deliberately:

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

With each letter of the Killing Curse Harry felt lightning bolts of power building from his toenails to his eyebrows. Every inch of his skin prickled, goose bumps throbbed, every nerve ignited, every sense imploded with power as a _rainbow_-colored spell unleashed from Harry's palm. The curse smashed into Voldemort's chest, impaling him straight through as the rainbow continued into, and disappeared _into the Veil_. The Dark Lord's head flew back as he screamed. His knees buckled and he began to fall backwards, but grabbed Harry's broken forearm as he went.

Harry couldn't feel the grip. He was quite certain his heart was boiling. Every body part had unhinged and his own roar was so loud his eardrums winced. Half of the curse was inside him. It was killing him. Harry felt himself dying.

At a liquid, glacial pace, Voldemort, his red eyes darkening in complete death, teetered backwards into the grey folds of the Dementor cloak. Just as Harry focused long enough to begin stopping his own curse, he felt his hand pass into pulpy ice, just like Hermione had described. As Harry was pulled further into the Veil, his body froze as if icicles were nailing him into place. Gravity froze, his body froze, the spell between Harry's hand and the Dark Lord's chest even froze. Half a moment before Harry's head passed into the Veil he heard Hermione finish her incantation, sobbing as she went, heard Hermione shout his name and Sirius holler "NO!"

Harry tried to blink but his eyes were frozen open, staring at the tight grip of Voldemort's white fingers around his forearm. _This is how I'm going to be for eternity_, Harry found himself able to think, _Suspended in nothing, staring at him, feeling my own magic killing me_…Harry sobbed inwardly and flexed from the emotions—flexed? Part of him was still outside the Veil. The burning cold stopped at his left elbow where half of that arm remained outstretched beyond the fabric, though it was still being yanked in from the momentum. With the last of all that he had, Harry stretched out his hand—

-and something grabbed it.

Some_one_.

The stop was so sudden that Harry's legs wanted to fly out from under him though they were restrained. Whoever had Harry began tugging at him with both hands but Harry was helpless to pull away. The Veil had him showered with magnets to itself—Voldemort was frozen clutching to Harry…and _Avada Kedavra, _in Voldemort, and also in Harry was ripping out his soul.

But then it jumped.

The curse automatically transferred itself out of Harry and into whoever was pulling. The entire Veil rippled from the effect and suddenly Harry's eyes blinked. In that fraction of time Harry yanked his right arm out of Voldemort's fingers only to find himself falling still further into the Veil. Whoever had him outside had just swallowed a fraction of the Killing Curse, and the grasp on Harry's arm broke. The Veil stiffened back into place and renewed despair washed across Harry as the last inches of his skin slid into the Veil—

-but not before he was grabbed again.

In a single mighty yank Harry felt himself get pulled out of the Veil, his body melting as he went, warming up, feeling coming back only to be replaced with the exhaustion of half-death. Time suddenly shifted into normalcy as Harry flew from the Veil so fast that his rescuer barely caught him before they both collapsed to the floor of the dais only to roll off the edge and boom-boom-boom down the steps—rolling from stomach to back with each bounce, unable to catch themselves or slow or acknowledge anything but the pain of feeling yourself dying…

With an echoing crash Harry landed on his back at the bottom of the steps as his rescuer flew over and behind him. Unable to breathe, unable to think or feel, Harry just forced himself to see and considered it odd that everything with his body was broken except for his eyes. His chest felt like it was about to implode. He felt poisoned, burned, empty, unhinged, like his blood had turned to ice and his muscles to water. Everything hurt, so much that Harry went numb before he could scream. His black t-shirt was ripped and blood was under him, seeming to flood the place. His entire body was trembling. His arms and neck were bleeding branches of weeping willows across the floor.

He was dying.

By degrees Harry shifted to focus on his left hand, still held tightly by—

"_Ron_?"

From his stomach, Ron Weasley, eyes unfocused, red hair at odd angles not unlike his limbs, lungs barely able to inhale, one hand at his chest where the rainbow had landed and the other gripping his best friend's—Ron smiled with relief that Harry was alive.

"Ron—" A ripping sound suddenly demanded Harry's attention and he managed to twist his head back towards the dais, and up the stairs to the Veil where Voldemort was trapped.

Hermione's spell had worked.

The Veil was destroying itself.

The entire chamber trembled as if from some enchanted earthquake. The Veil's seams and edges stretched out from an invisible wind and a poisoned vein of cloth began to unravel. The darkness of the cloak began to glow, as if a light were being cast from inside out. Harry had to squint when the searing light ripped through the Veil like lightning bolts. Magic sliced the curtain in half from top to bottom, and then in quarters, eights, sixteenths and so on. Ripping like a Howler. With each tear the Death Chamber reverberated at the seams. Ashes of cloth began to flutter around the room as the portal shrank into nonexistence. The room suddenly decreased in temperature as the final slits of the Veil caught on fire, brilliant black and white and green burning until nothing remained of the cold, of the Veil, of its occupants…not even ashes or sound.

The Veil was gone. Voldemort was gone. And what could possibly be left of him was trapped in some dark, torturous netherworld of his own creation. It was over. The room went silent. Harry's left arm went out from under his chin and his head crashed to the ground with the rest of his strength. His glasses hit the floor and the lenses shattered on impact. Harry's face went slack, his eyes closed, blood was in his lungs and throat and on his lips and his head stilled.

"Har…" Harry heard Ron's voice as if they were on opposite ends of the Great Hall. "Harry…Harry!" Harry forced his eyes open and he watched, through blurry vision, as Ron crawled the yard over to his best friend, moaning all the while. When Ron reached Harry he put one arm around his chest and the other under Harry's head. Hot tears were slipping down his cheeks. "_Harry_?" His voice shook.

Sirius and Hermione were suddenly above him as well. Sirius pressed his lips to his godson's forehead but Harry couldn't feel it…he couldn't feel anything.

"You were brilliant, Hermione," Harry whispered. If his eyes were closed he could transfer his strength to his mouth, and if his mouth didn't have to work then his eyes could. When they opened again Harry was quite certain they weighed more than the rest of his body combined. Three faces swam through his vision.

"Shh, easy mate," Ron soothed. "Harry, you did it. You did it, Harry."

"Are you all right?"

"I think that's our line, Harry." Sirius snorted. He looked petrified.

Hermione reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Harry, it's over now, you can get up, we can go home."

"I can't. I—I'm so tired…" Harry closed his eyes. "If I don't wake up again…I'm sorry. I'm so—so sorry…" He tried to speak again and only a breath came out.

Hermione hiccupped and began to weep, her face rotating between Harry's shoulder and Ron's.

Ron reached out and pressed his thumb gently to Harry's scar. "Harry, you have to stay awake. Voldemort's gone, we're all safe now, you're safe. Just please stay awake."

Harry actually smiled. Smiles don't need any strength. They have a strength of their own. "Yeah…it's over…" His eyes focused on something past their faces. "Mum?" Harry whispered. Then he mouthed. "Dad?"

Sirius looked up as if his friends were actually on the ceiling where Harry was staring. "No, no!" Sirius pulled Harry to him. "Not yet, James, please! Not now, not now, not now…"

"We need to get him some help," Hermione said to Ron.

Ron leaned over Harry and tried to meet his eyes. "Harry? Harry come on…" Tears fell from Ron's eyes onto Harry's face. "Please…You're Harry Potter! You're The Boy Who Lived…"

"I'm just Harry…" Harry's chest heaved with a sob. "I'm just…" His eyes clouded and he squinted. Harry was having trouble focusing on them. "…Ron?"

"We're here, Harry, we're here."

Harry looked at them: Ron, Hermione and Sirius. "You have," he smiled and closed his eyes. "You have all of my love."


	24. The Man Who Lives

**The Man Who Lives  
**By: PenPatronus  
_Epilogue_

**Author's Note:** This story is _complete_! After over 2 years of working on it, and over a year of publication. Thanks so much for all of the reviews and please continue to submit them, even if you're reading this 5 years from now:) Eventually, probably not for many months, I'll put up an updated/ edited version of this epic, no big changes of course but some minor ones to make it a more complete story (and spelling corrections). In the meantime please read my other stories, and look out for some new ones! Thanks again, I hope you've enjoyed this:) (you might want to review the prologue if you haven't read it in awhile, just so that the epilogue makes sense) Is JK Rowling a goddess, or what?

-PenPatronus-

**The Man Who Lives**

"Dad?"

"Daddy, is that it? Is that all?"

Ron Weasley, husband and father,blinked his blue eyes and tears fell. He didn't know where they came but they landed on his knee next to Lily's cheek. Harry Weasley sat beside his sister, the Chocolate Frog Card of Harry Potter in his lap. Both pairs of eyes were wide and impatient. Ron looked at his oldest children, thought of his twin sons sleeping above them and of his brilliant wife, Hermione, no doubt holding Harbor's book. _The_ book. That _he_ had written so that Ron would never forget the lie he was supposed to tell the world, his family, his children. Ron stared into their eyes and doubted if he should tell "the truth," or what actually happened.

"Dad? What happened?"

"Yeah Ron, what happened?"

Ron's head snapped up at the ghost of a voice. Just inside their porch steps stood Harbor Rowling. He was aging, with soft hands and hunched shoulders, strained cheek bones and thin brown hair. Both Harry and Lily shouted Harbor's name and had him in a furious hug of Weasley love that lasted long enough for Ron to wipe the remaining moisture out of his eyes and sit up straighter on the couch.

"Hello Harbor." Hermione, in blue velvet robes and her hair pinned up, emerged from the staircase and over to Harbor who hugged her, kissed the top of her head.

Harry, never one to be distracted, turned back to his father. "So Dad, how does the story end?" Ron looked up at Harbor who nodded back and took Hermione's hand as Ron continued.

Ron took a deep breath and forced himself to say it: "Harry…Harry died that night. The green light that came from the bad curse was in him just too long…"

"Oh…" Harry Weasley frowned, his eyes back on the Card.

"I'm sorry you lost your friend, Mommy," Lily whimpered, snuggling against Hermione's thigh. Hermione's chin quivered a bit. She ran her fingers through her daughter's hair.

"Harbor did you know Harry Potter?" Harry asked.

Harbor looked at Hermione before he replied, "By reputation only, Harry." Ron snorted. "Now," Harbor continued, shooting a scolding look at Ron, "I believe I have some new godchildren to meet!"

Minutes later Lily and Harry took the Floo network to the Warren and Weasley family and food, and Harbor was upstairs leaning into a crib. "Which one is which?"

Hermione looked over his shoulder. "Remus has that birthmark on his neck, Remus Percival. And his brother is James Albus." Hermione said their names gently, as if they would hurt Harbor's ears.

Harbor looked up at her and a "Thank you" managed to come out.

But Hermione gasped and recoiled form him, "Harbor! Your eyes!"

"What?"

Hermione pointed him towards the mirror above the twins' crib.

Harbor looked up, and swore, "Oh bloody hell I forgot to take the potion." Harbor reached into the pocket of his robe and took out a flask. He flicked it into the air where it floated, muttered a few choice magical words and its lid unscrewed.

"Don't let that happen around the kids, Harbor," Hermione scolded. "And I hope you don't do Wandless Magic in public considering you're supposed to be a Squib."

"Of course I don't. Though it amazes me how Filch kept from letting it slip for all those years." Harbor sighed. "But, I don't want to get too rusty in case our Aurors get soft."

"Hey!" Ron grinned as he entered the bedroom. Harbor looked up and Ron stopped in his tracks at the sight of familiar green eyes. "Hey…"

Hermione crinkled her nose at the flask. "How can you stand drinking that stuff everyday?"

"Cinnamon, actually," Harbor said. "_Accio_!" A small salt shaker floated out of Harbor's other pocket in his robes and at a Wandless command, emptied its contents into the flask. "Polyjuice Potion actually isn't that bad with a bit of cinnamon."

"Is Evander bald by now?"

"His leg hair re-grows in a month," Harbor chuckled. Ron was still staring at him as if seeing a ghost. "Well, bottoms up!" Harbor shut his emerald eyes, grabbed the flask and tilted it into his mouth.

"_Wait_."

Harbor and Hermione both pivoted to Ron.

"Wait…please…"

Harbor shook his head. "No, Ron." He started to swallow the potion but Ron crossed the room and snatched it out of his head. He looked drained, pale. There were still traces of tears on his freckles, connecting each dot. Harbor stared at his friend and Ron watched as the last of the Lupin brownness left the green eyes. Harbor averted his eyes and moved to turn away.

Ron grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. "Someday I might tell that story and forget the real ending," Ron said in a hoarse voice. Harbor looked away, clenched his eyes shut. "Open your eyes, Harbor…Please. I miss seeing…please just once…" Harbor wrenched out of Ron's grasp and turned his back. He walked across the room and leaned wearily against the wall. One of the twins yawned in his sleep. Hermione reached out to take her husband's hand but Ron advanced on Harbor, whose back still faced him.

"The ranks of Death Eaters are swelling, Harbor," Ron raised his voice angrily. "Dad's having an emergency meeting first thing tomorrow morning with everyone—even who's left of the Order. There are rumors of some new leader, someone called Nefarious. This sounds big, Harbor…Voldemort sized." Ron watched as the Polyjuice Potion continued to wear off and reveal black hair beneath the brown. Ron took a deep breath. "We need you. We need you, H—"

Harbor turned slowly around. The body and face of Evander Lupin melted away. Hermione gasped despite her self-discipline.

Before them stood a skinny, pale, wrinkling man who looked as frail as that 11-year-old asking about Platform 9¾. Without the glasses on, his eyes looked even greener…and so sad.

"_Harry_…" Ron breathed through the tears in his voice. He had always had his friend…but to actually _see him_ after so many years…

"Harry Potter is dead."

Ron took a step forward. "No, no!" _You_ are Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, The Man Who Lives! We need you, Harry, stop hiding! I want—" Ron's voice broke. "I want my children to know you."

Harry flared up and yelled back, "The Boy Who Lived is dead! Just like you told your children!" He advanced on Ron, went right up to his best friend's face. "Just like Ginny!"

Just then the baby Weasley twins, whose eyes had opened at their father's voice, burst into double crying fits that would've deafened a Mandrake. Shocked, both Harry and Ron hurried to the crib and picked up the babies, Ron handing Harry's Polyjuice Potion to Hermione.

"Shh, shhh Remus," Harry soothed the child in his arms. Ron watched as his real best friend held his son, godfather holding the namesake of his own godfather.

James went quiet almost exactly when Remus did. Ron stared at his sons for a long moment before trying to speak again. "I've lied to my oldest children," he muttered, smiling at James to keep from glaring at Harry. "Can't I tell my youngest the true story?" Ron didn't wait for Harry's permission. He rocked James in his arms, who lay transfixed with his father's voice. Hermione leaned against the crib and smiled.

"You know what happened, James? After your big, strong, handsome Dad pulled Harry Potter out of the Veil, Harry, Sirius, your Mum and I all went to Grimmauld Place where your Mum cured and healed Harry! Yes she did, oh yes she did!" James giggled and swatted at Ron's long nose. "And your Mum made a Polyjuice Potion and Harry drank Evander's hair! Eww!" Remus cackled and flexed his fingers. "And we told everyone that Harry was in that Veil when it blew up and now he's parading around with a silly name being a stupid git and now _you'll_ have to fight Voldemort's—"

"Ron," Harry growled. Hermione moved to wrap her arms around Ron while Harry turned his attention back to Remus who was reaching playfully for Harry's nose. Harry Potter smiled and dipped his face to accept the baby's touch. But Remus wasn't aiming for Harry's nose or chin or hair.

Remus stretched for his godfather's forehead, and his tiny fingers thumped affectionately against the lightning-bolt shaped scar. Harry froze. Remus stared at him, already loving the man just for holding him. Harry shifted baby Remus and gently wrapped the baby's fragile fingers around one of his own, brought them to his lips and kissed them. Then Harry met Ron and Hermione's eyes. His two best friends.

"One of the reasons I decided to fake my death was to protect you," Harry whispered. "It's not fair but it was for your own good—and for mine! It's for peace. If Harry Potter is alive then the Death Eaters have a target, and my friends would be in danger but now…" He rubbed his cheek across the centimeter of red hair on Remus' head. "…but...now my godchildren are in danger…"

Ron frowned. Was Harry actually considering coming out of hiding?

But then: "_Accio_!"

Before Hermione could react, the flask of Polyjuice Potion flew out of her grasp and Harry downed all of it before Ron could protest. Remus wasn't scared but giggled as Harry transformed back into Harbor: the black hair replaced, the green eyes turned to brown, the scar disappearing through bubbling flesh.

Ron hung his head, never more disappointed in his life. "Dammit, Harry…" His best friend was going to hide, from the world and from him, for the rest of his life...Ron felt defeated.

"Your family thinks I'm dead. Do you want me to give your mother a heart attack?" Harry asked in a deadpan.

Ron's eyes widened. He looked up, and Harry grinned.

"I think it would go better if we told them all first and then they watched the change, otherwise Molly might faint right into the Easter dinner."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "You mean you're…you're…back?"

Harry gleefully tossed the flask into the trashcan.

"Mum is going to kill you," was all Ron could manage. "And Dad…and my brothers, and Dean and—and Dobby…they really are going to kill you."

Harry grinned and lowered his face back down to Remus who nuzzled against his godfather's chest. They smiled at each other as if sharing an inside joke. "I can't hide behind…_scars_ when I should do all in my power to protect you," he whispered to Remus. "And I will…I promise."

"And—oh—man if they don't kill you? This Nefarious guy is just going to weep like a baby when he hears you're alive," Ron sputtered, still trying to comprehend what was happening.

"You two do realize what day it is," Hermione said, tears in her eyes as she took James and headed downstairs.

"Easter." Ron snorted.

"What better time for a resurrection?" Harry laughed.

The three friends grinned: they'd just regained their childhood, their future and their children's future. They were together. For always.

**The End/ Mischief Managed/ Finite Incantatem ;)**


End file.
